Lions and Badgers
by thunderdaughter
Summary: In which it is unwise to pick on a Hufflepuff who fought in the DA in front of the Gryffindor who led them. (Some Hannah/Neville fluff, passing reference to Dean and Seamus) Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling (alas), these are not my characters, I am just playing in this universe.
1. Chapter 1: A Gryffindor Walks Into A Bar

Hannah Abbott had not been having the best of days. She was hot and tired, her blonde hair escaping the knot at the nape of her neck and tickling her shoulders, her eyes dark-rimmed with lack of sleep. It had been a busy evening at the Leaky Cauldron, and she'd just managed to get a breather in between crowds. And of course, just when she was feeling particularly sweaty and nasty and unattractive, the gorgeous guy she'd had a crush on for years, the one she hadn't seen all summer, walked into the bar. Every female eye in the place followed him, and, she noticed, some of the male eyes as well. _Perfect timing, just perfect,_ she thought to herself wryly, but put on her brightest smile for him nonetheless. _Doesn't matter,_ she reminded herself sternly, trying to slow her racing heart. _He's dating Luna, and there's no way you can compete with Luna,_ _even at your best_ _._

"Hey, Neville. How was your summer? Something to drink?"

"A Butterbeer, please, and it was glorious. How are you, Hannah?"

She reached for a clean mug and held it under the tap, careful to get just the right pour.

"Doing just fine, thanks." She paused, wondering whether to inquire. _Will I sound jealous_ _or nosy_ _if I ask where Luna is?_

He noticed her tentative glance around, and sighed. "We broke up. Amicably. She's gone off to join an expedition hunting for magical wildlife. Doesn't want to come back to Hogwarts after, well, everything, and she's not ready to settle down and date seriously yet, and I doubt I'll be the guy for her when she is."

"I'm sorry to hear that." _No, you're not,_ her conscience twinged at her. "Are you all right?"

He smiled reassuringly at her. "I'm fine, no worries. It was a fling. Fun while it lasted, for both of us I hope, but, well, we're still friends, and all, and that's what mattered." He took a sip of his Butterbeer. "Have you done something to the recipe? This is much better than I remember it."

She dimpled at him. "Thanks! I convinced Tom to let me fiddle with it a bit – my aunt's old technique. He says," and here her voice deepened into a convincing imitation of Tom's gruff grumble, "as long as you're taking over the place anyway, you might as well start putting your own stamp on it."

"So you have." He looked around at the windows, now full of greenery, blooming and twining and reaching for the sunbeams. Even the darker corners had shade-loving plants in them, some of them singing softly to themselves.

"Home is where the plants are, as Professor Sprout always says..."

"Agreed." He lifted his mug to her, his kindred-spirit grin making the blood in her veins fizz and sparkle. _I've missed him so much._

And of course, it was just at that point that the pair of really aggravating young women who had been getting on Hannah's nerves all evening decided to chime in. "Aww, come on, handsome," one of them giggled tipsily. "Why waste your time on her? She's just a Hufflepuff, after all..." _Oh crap, here we go again. I can't let myself rise to the bait, they're customers_ _and I'm working_ _..._ _but why does this have to happen_ _now,_ _in front of Neville?_

But then she saw Neville's face. "What do you mean, 'just' a Hufflepuff?" His voice was soft, but it could have frozen Fiendfyre.

The girl shrugged, clearly not knowing when to stop digging. "Well, everyone knows it's the house of leftovers, where you go if you're not smart enough or brave enough or sneaky enough for the others. The rejects."

"Then everyone knows wrong. Where were you during the Battle of Hogwarts?" he demanded. "I don't remember seeing you there."

She backed away defensively. "I'm an only child. My parents insisted I evacuate, because they didn't want to lose me. I couldn't help it."

"I'm an only child too. So is Hannah. And while you were safe at home, she was with me and Dumbledore's Army, fighting Death Eaters as bravely as any Gryffindor. Braver than some." He withered her with a look. "There were people from every other house, Gryffindors and Ravenclaws and Slytherins, who chose to stay home in safety last year or worse, join up with the Death Eaters. But not from Hufflepuff. _Every single Hufflepuff_ who was old enough was with Dumbledore's Army giving everything they had to stop Voldemort. Some of them died. Too many of them died. And they didn't do it for the glory, they didn't do it for fame or fortune or recognition, they did it because it _needed to be done_. That's Hufflepuff for you, every single time, doing what needs to be done no matter what it costs them. They're the best of the lot of us, really. You aren't fit to polish her shoes, let alone sit at her bar and order her around."

As he fell silent, he realized that he had been louder than he had intended, and the bar was dead silent, listening. Suddenly, a round of applause burst from a table containing several Gryffindor students. "You tell 'em, Nev!" shouted Seamus Finnegan, and Dean Thomas, his arm around Seamus's waist, seconded the cry. The applause spread through the bar, until even a Slytherin table was clapping.

The troublemaker's friend nudged her urgently to her feet, and they tried to look as though they were stalking out in a huff. It rather spoiled the image, though, when the girl who had been doing the talking knocked over her bar stool, spilled her drink, fell face first into the puddle, and had to be picked up by her friend, covered in Firewhisky and shame. The bar roared with laughter, and then cheerfully settled back into its normal evening buzz as the girls slammed the door behind them, announcing the end of the show.

"Sorry, Hannah, I didn't mean to make a scene," said Neville, righting the stool and mopping up what was left of the spilled drink with his napkin.

"Neville, I...uh..." She realized she was stammering, and stopped short. "Thanks for standing up for us," she finally got out, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. "She's been pulling that all week, because everyone knows how easy it is to get me riled on that particular topic, and I can't lose my temper with a customer..."

"Some people are just rotten. Every word I said was true, especially the part about her not being fit to polish your shoes."

He paused, swallowing another mouthful of Butterbeer. "I begged the Sorting Hat to put me into Hufflepuff, you know. And not really because I thought it was the soft option, if that's what you're thinking. I wanted it because it was the cozy option." His face softened, and he seemed to shed years. "I was a lonely little kid, didn't have too many friends my own age growing up, all my relatives were convinced I was a Squib, and my parents were, well, gone. Hufflepuff seemed so warm and welcoming and cozy, like a big family with room for everyone. I wanted that so badly, Hannah. And yeah, I found friends in Gryffindor too, just like there's plenty of courage in Hufflepuff. But you guys represent everything that's best about Hogwarts, the heart of everything we were fighting for last year, and don't ever let anyone make you forget that. I never will." His eyes met hers, all earnest sincerity, and she felt her insides dissolve into jelly.

 _Merlin_ _, Longbottom, do you have ANY IDEA what you_ _do to me_ _?_ But she only reached out and put her hand on his. "I've still got one year to finish at Hogwarts, even if I'm not staying in the dorm itself, and during that year, you have a standing invitation to our common room at any time. Not one of us would ever deny you entry, not you. You may have the courage of a Gryffindor, but you've got the heart of a 'Puff, too. And you can be one of our family any time you want, Gryffindor or not."

"I think that's the highest compliment anyone's ever given me." _And how on Earth is a girl supposed to resist a smile like that?_

She grinned, trying to lighten the mood before the look in his eyes melted her into a puddle on the floor. "I'll even make you some of my famous apple dumplings. There are advantages to having a common room right near the kitchens. It annoys the house-elves, when we want to bake things ourselves rather than let them do it for us, but they indulge us."

"You," he pointed his mug at her, "are a dangerous woman."

"I'm not even the worst. Wait till you try Justin's chocolate chip cookies. Or Ernie's lemon meringue pie. Or Susan's carrot cake."

"Why aren't you all the size of houses?"

"Because we share." She thought for a minute. "That's what we need. We've all been so turned on each other, so divided. We need a common room for all Hogwarts students, and alumni reunions, too. With regular parties."

But then a call from another table summoned her, and she didn't have time to continue the thought before another rush began and she was busy pulling drinks and carrying trays. When she was finally able to turn back, she found Neville gone, but in his place, a little napkin drawing of a lion hugging a badger, and a note: _You're worth twelve of her_ _,_ _you know. N.L._


	2. Chapter 2: An Exchange of Letters

Neville woke shaking, tangled in his blankets, his arms raised to fend off the fangs that had been about to close on his neck.

"Neville! Are you all right?" His grandmother's sharp voice cut through the nightmare as nothing else could. He sat up, the room coming into focus around him, Gran standing in the doorway, her eyes concerned.

"Sorry, Gran. Just a bad dream."

"Another one?" She raised her eyebrows at him. "That's the fourth time since you've been home, and you haven't been home a week yet. Perhaps you ought to see someone about that."

"Maybe I should."

"In any case, dear, you have an owl."

 _An owl? Who could be sending me an owl?_ Hastily, he showered and pulled on his trainee Auror's robes.

He recognized the owl immediately - Hannah's Melisande - and he smiled to himself, remembering the time he'd caught Hannah sitting in a window seat, smoothing Melisande's feathers and singing her a lullaby, when he'd arrived a bit early for one of their Herbology tutoring sessions. She'd gotten up hastily, apologizing - for what, he didn't know, he'd been admiring the way the late-afternoon sun was shining through her hair, and the rich sweetness of her contralto voice, like honey on velvet - but he'd treasured the memory ever since. _I had such a crush on her...but she was so far out of my league...and then her mother died and she went home and by the time she came back, the world had turned upside down and there was nothing but war and fighting and blood, and I couldn't afford to care about anyone so much lest they die on me..._

He shook his head to dislodge the memories, and took the letter, scratching Melisande's head feathers affectionately. She stretched her head towards his fingers, clearly reveling in the sensation. He laughed and offered her a scrap of meat, which she took with delicate precision, like a queen receiving tribute.

 _Dear Neville,_

 _I was thinking about what we were talking about the other night, at the bar_ _, and I ran it by Susan and Ernie and Justin, and they all think it would be a terrific idea. So we took it to Professor Sprout, who took it to the Headmistress, and the long and the short of it is, Hufflepuff House is going to be hosting an all-Houses party_ _in the Room of Requirement_ _, for current students and any alums who can make it_ _(there are so few of us left, after the war...). We've scheduled the first one for Sept. 26, with a Harvest Festival theme,_ _which gives us about three weeks to plan_ _, which I_ think _will be enough_ _. We'_ _'re hoping we can have these regularly, maybe every month or so, though it might be hard around exams._ _They're not going to be anything complicated or fancy, just food and drink, maybe a bit of music and dancing, decorations, comfy corners to sit and chat with people, that sort of thing._

 _Would you be willing to help with planning and setup? I know you're going to be awfully busy, with Auror training and all, but we could really use a Gryffindor voice, and it'd give you a chance to see the Hufflepuff Common Room (and our plants - we've got an anti-gravity tree now, after Professor Sprout's summer expedition to Nepal), and you know, all Hufflepuff planning meetings involve cookies. It's a requirement._

 _Let me know if I'm asking too much -_ _if you're too stressed or busy to get involved in other things right now, I don't want to make it worse for you. But if you get involved with this, everyone who was in Dumbledore's Army will come, you know they will - you're our hero, you know. Even the Slytherins respect you._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Hannah_

He immediately went and got a parchment from the stack on his grandmother's desk, and a fresh self-inking quill.

 _Dear Hannah,_

 _I'd love to be part of this. It sounds like fun (and you know my weakness - an anti-gravity tree? I'm dying to see it)._ _Auror training is exciting, but it isn't fun. (It's mostly on-the-job training anyway. There are far too few of us left_ _, as you say.)_

 _But while it's great that Hufflepuff is starting these off, given that this is your area of strength and all, you shouldn't be the only House hosting these, not if our point is to get the Houses to mingle. I'll try and recruit Gryffindor_ _s_ _to_ _host_ _the next one- maybe for Guy Fawkes Day, especially if I can convince Seamus to handle the pyrotechnics. I doubt that'll take much persuasion, as Seamus is always willing to play with explosives (and this is why Dean has the Aguamenti spell down pat, wandless and wordless, and always carries a tube of burn cream somewhere in his pockets)._ _If we do these first two right, the Slytherins and Ravenclaws will be champing at the bit to show us all how much better and more brilliant a party they can throw...well, we might as well channel that competitive spirit for the good, right?_

 _And thank you for the flattery, but I really didn't do any more than any of the rest of you. It was Harry in the end, anyway, as it was always meant to be._ _(I'll get him to help, too._ _If anyone has the starpower to draw people in, it's our Chosen One - and anyway, h_ _e's bored, and he's spending way too much time alone in that grim old place he inherited from Sirius_ _, with only Kreacher for company_ _. Hermione and Ron are stealing any chance they get to_ _snog shamelessly,_ _because Hermione's overworking herself as always, and Ginny's alternating between studying furiously to make up for the year she lost and Flooing home to be with George, because she and her Mum are the only ones who can get him to eat or talk._ _So he'll probably jump at the chance._ _)_

 _Let me know where and when, and I'll be there._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Neville_


	3. Chapter 3: Expecto Patronum!

Neville arrived right on time at the Minister's office, meeting Harry and Ron at the door. It did not do to be late when Minister Shacklebolt himself was overseeing your training.

The Minister greeted them with a cheery smile, the sort of cheery smile that foretold an exhausting day. "Morning, lads! We've got a lovely invasion of Dementors to deal with this week, so it's time for some extensive Patronus work. You can all cast one, I'm presuming?"

Harry and Ron nodded, but Neville hesitated, running a hand through his hair. "I...I've got a noncorporeal one, but I've never managed..."

"When was the last time you tried?"

"Practice, sixth year. There wasn't time, last year, we were so busy fending off the Carrows...and not many happy thoughts, anyway."

Shacklebolt smiled wryly. "I shouldn't think so. But now...why don't you try again? Surely the hero of Hogwarts has some happy memories to use, now? And you've got the advantage of those breathing and centering techniques I've been teaching you - you'd be surprised what a difference they can make."

He bit his lip. "I can try, at least."

He closed his eyes, focused on his breathing. _In for four heartbeats. Hold for twelve. Out for six._ _Repeat. And again._ He could feel his pulse quiet, his mind steady. _Now, reach for the happy memories._ He brought them out like treasures, reaching with his left hand instinctively for the gum wrapper he kept in his pocket, rubbing it between his fingers for luck as he raised the wand in his right. _Uncle Algie_ _opening his hands and showing me Trevor for the first time,_ _Dumbledore telling me I was brave for standing up to my friends, Lupin's approving nod as I banished the Snape-boggart, Sprout telling me I was her best student, the hug Hannah gave me when she got an O on her Herbology O.W.L.S.,_ _Gran's letter_ _calling me my parents' son_ _, the feel of Gryffindor's Sword in my hands and the slash it made through Nagini's neck..._ and the newest addition, a treasure beyond price, _his mother's pale, drawn face lighting in a smile, and her voice,_ _hoarse from disuse,_ _shaping the single word, "proud"..._ he felt the joy well up again in his heart, filling him with light, and he focused the light on his wand, willing it to work this time. It was almost there, almost, and then Hannah's lovely face sprang into his mind again, unbidden, with her warm voice saying " _you can be_ _one_ _of our family any time_ _you like_ _, Gryffindor or no_ _t_ _,"_ and the tinder in his heart caught fire in a rush, and as he spoke the words, the silver flame leapt from his wand and became...

"What's _that_?" Ron asked, puzzled. "It looks like Dad's weasel, but it's not, quite..."

Shacklebolt eyed the small silver creature, which indeed looked weasel-like, as it darted playfully in and out around and between Neville's feet. "I wonder..." He reached for a small bell on his desk, and a cheerful house-elf popped her head into the room.

"Yes, Minister?"

"Would you kindly ask Ms. Granger if she would come and see us for a moment, Zulkey?"

"Immediately, Minister!" and she darted off.

Hermione arrived a few minutes later, mildly breathless - Zulkey was very enthusiastic about her job. She smiled happily to see her friends, a smile which widened further when she saw Neville's Patronus. "That one's yours, isn't it, Neville? Congratulations! I knew you could do it!"

"Thanks. But what is it? We're trying to figure it out. Some kind of ferret, maybe? Or a marten?"

"Alice's was a pine marten, after all," Shacklebolt said absently, and Neville looked up at him, startled. He'd never known that.

Hermione looked closer. "You know, Dad used to read me this story when I was little...Minister? You've read a lot of Muggle literature. Did you ever read _Rikki-Tikki-Tavi?_ It was one of my favorites. And there was a picture, and it looked awfully like this..."

He chuckled. "So he did. It would certainly be appropriate."`

"What's a Rikki-tikki-whatever it is?" asked Ron, impatient as ever with his girlfriend's theorizing.

"He's a mongoose."

"Doesn't look like any kind of bird to _me._ "

"Not that kind of a goose, Ron." She glared at him, but it was an affectionate glare. "It's a little creature from India, that the father in the story brought home to keep his family safe..."

"Safe? What kind of threat is this little guy going to protect anyone from? I mean, he's cute and all, but..." Neville furrowed his brow, looking at the small creature, who was dancing around the room now, seemingly unable to stay still for more than a half-second at a time.

"Snakes, Neville." Hermione's lips were twitching. "That 'cute little guy' regularly hunts, kills and eats venomous snakes larger than he is. They're loyal, friendly pets, and they're sociable little creatures in the wild, but they're absolutely fearless in a fight, and death on four paws to cobras."

"And whatever Nagini was, I suppose." Harry grinned at Neville, his eyes twinkling. "Sounds right to me."

Minister Shacklebolt slapped him gently on the back. "And, practically speaking, it has the merits of being substantially more likely to go unnoticed than my own lynx or Potter's stag. Now. The next step is to teach you the secret known only, so far, to the Order of the Phoenix- how to use these lovely creatures to pass messages and carry information. The rest of you, please cast your Patronuses now, and we'll begin the lesson."

By the end of the workday, Neville had managed to get his little Patronus to speak - it was startling to hear his own voice coming from another creature, but strangely distorted, not like the voice he heard in his head at all - and to pass on simple messages given him by Shacklebolt to the others, each in separate, soundproofed rooms. Finally, the Minister declared himself satisfied. "Dismissed, all of you, but please practice in your spare time. I will see you again tomorrow at the same time. Mr. Longbottom, would you remain for a word in private, please?"

After the others had left, the Minister sat down on the desk and looked at Neville for a moment. "There is something that Alastor, Tonks, Arthur, Molly, and I had discussed for a number of years, but never quite got around to – there was always another emergency to be dealt with, in recent years. Now...two of us are gone, and the Weasleys are mourning their son, so I suppose it's up to me to put it into effect, though Alastor did leave a considerable sum towards the cause in his will. We have noted, in recent years, that while there are many wizard healers for the body, there are very few who can address the illnesses of the mind, beyond simple Calming Charms and suchlike. We want to improve that situation, by funding research on the topic and better training for wizard healers, in a center that will at first be attached to St. Mungo's and may later, if needed, become its own separate institution. And, one thing we were all agreed on. If you and Augusta are willing, we'd very much like to call it the Frank and Alice Longbottom Center for Mental Health."

` He felt his eyes prickle with tears that he was not going to shed in front of the most powerful wizard in Britain. "I'd be honored to have my parents' names associated with a project like that, and I think they would too. Anything I can do to help with that cause, Minister, please let me know."

"I'm sure there will be plenty we ask you for. One of the problems with being a hero, young Neville, is that there are always more heroic jobs to be done. Now, off with you, and get some dinner and rest. An exhausted Auror is a useless Auror, remember."

"Yes, Minister. Um, sir?"

"Yes, Longbottom?

"You said Mum's Patronus was a pine marten. Do you know what Dad's was?"

The older man winced. "Sometimes I forget how little you boys know about your parents, you and Harry. Frank's Patronus was a sparrow hawk. Small but fierce, just like your mongoose. He was my best friend, you know. I miss him terribly sometimes." His face looked drawn, older than his years.

Neville nodded silently. There didn't seem to be anything useful to say.

He met Harry and Ron in the hallway, both about to be consumed with curiousity. "What did he want from you, Nev?" Ron, of course, was the first to blurt it out.

Neville explained, and Harry nodded vigorously. "Yes, we absolutely need something like that. And something for the kids, too, the ones like Sirius and Snape and even Tom Riddle. The ones who grow up unloved and abused, maybe beaten or hurt or starved...some of 'em turn Dark because they don't know how to be anything else..."

 _Or_ _the ones_ _left in a tiny cupboard under the stairs and treated like an unwanted burden for eleven years, Harry?_ Neville smiled at his friend, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Yes. But that one we name for _your_ parents."

Harry ran his hand through his hair. ruffling it, a small smile on his lips. "Thanks, Neville. I'd like that. You guys want to grab dinner at the Cauldron before going home?"

Ron shook his head. "Hermione and I were going to go catch a movie, but we'll see you tomorrow."

"I'm up for it, if you like." _Wonder if Hannah's working tonight? Fool boy,_ he scolded himself, _you'd think you never got over that crush..._


	4. Chap 4: Home Is Where the Hufflepuff Is

__Hannah was, in fact, behind the bar, and the smile she gave him when they walked in almost made him trip over the doorstep. _Doesn't help that she's even prettier than she was_ _fifth year_ _..._ "Neville! Harry! Good to see you both. Neville, have you gotten a chance to recruit him for our plans?"

"That sounds ominous," Harry looked sideways at Neville. "What _are_ you two planning?"

"All of Hufflepuff House, actually, plus me and I hope you for Gryffindor." He explained the idea for the all-House parties, and Harry lit up. _Poor guy, he really is bored and lonely._

"That sounds great! I'd love to help. And Neville's right, Gryffindor should take the next round."

"But then why would you help with Hufflepuff's?" Hannah raised her eyebrows.

 _Because I want an excuse to spend time with you. And to see that anti-gravity tree._ Well, the last was an excuse he could speak aloud. "Isn't that the whole point of this, inter-House cooperation? Plus, you promised me a look at the plants in the Puff Common Room." He grinned at her. "And more seriously, because this isn't Gryffindor's area of strength the way it is yours, and we'd like to learn from you. The better we can make the first two parties, the more likely the other two houses are to put their hearts into it, too."

"Goodness knows we spend enough time last year learning from you. We owe you, I guess." Her eyes twinkled at him. "In any case, I suspect you two are here for dinner, not party planning - and there's shepherd's pie fresh out of the oven, and chicken curry from the recipe Padma gave me, plus a lovely mushroom/nut stew if you want the vegetarian option..."

"I'll have shepherd's pie, thanks." Harry had never been interested in the vegetarian option.

"Same for me, please, and two Butterbeers." Hannah gave him another smile, setting his heart racing again, as she drew the Butterbeers and headed for the kitchen to get the food.

"Oh, and I'm buying, Harry."

"No you're not, I've got funds."

"I know you do, but you bought last time. My turn."

Harry shrugged. "Fair enough. Not as if either of us needs to worry about money, after all."

"This is true." The Longbottom family wasn't exactly as rich as the Potters or Blacks whose combined fortunes Harry was heir to, but they'd been landed gentry for longer than the Muggle historians knew. Neville had come into a very comfortable legacy on reaching adulthood, in addition to his Auror's salary. He didn't actually need the job, in fact, but he rather liked being useful.

"Hey sweetie, I'll pay if you let me sit on your lap..." came from behind him, in an oversweetened coo.

He turned, startled, to find a dark-haired Ravenclaw girl, posed so as to show off the maximum possible cleavage, giving him what she clearly believed to be a sultry look. Turning bright red, he managed, "No, thank you. Please, we're having a private dinner here..."

She pouted, disappointed. "Maybe next time, cutie-pie. Send me an owl, willya?" She dropped a piece of paper coyly onto his lap, no doubt with her address on it, and walked off, waving to him over her shoulder with a flirtatious smile.

He rolled his eyes at Harry, who was laughing at him across the table, as he crumpled up the paper and pushed it to the side of the table. "Cut it out, would you? I bet you get enough of that too, Mr. Chosen One, Quidditch Hero, and Defeater of Dark Lords."

"I have a redheaded girlfriend known far and wide for her temper and her Bat-Bogey Hex. Comes in very handy sometime."

"I envy you. Not Ginny specifically," he hastened to add, "I love her like the sister I never had."

"I know. She refers to you as her 'least annoying brother.'"

Neville laughed out loud. "I don't think that's saying much. Don't tell Ron I said that."

"He knows, he knows."

Hannah came back with two full plates of food, which were giving off an aroma that made Neville's stomach growl. "Thanks," he said, smiling up at her as she put one in front of him. "That looks wonderful."

"You're welcome. Hope it tastes good, too." She rested an affectionate hand on his shoulder for a minute.

Harry was already several bites into his pie. He looked up at Hannah with eyes approaching worship. Between swallows, he informed her, "This is as good as Mrs. Weasley's."

"I'll take that as high praise."

"Mm-hmmph," was his emphatic response, along with a vigorous nod.

Neville took a bite himself, savoring the rich meaty gravy. "He's right, this is incredible."

Her dimples showed again. "Mum's recipe. We used to make it together when I was small. One of the best memories I have of her."

"She'd be awfully proud of you, Hannah, running your own business and all." Neville gave her a sympathetic glance, understanding perfectly well how much she missed her mother.

"Not quite there yet - I'm still paying Tom off. But I'm taking over more and more of it. Speaking of which, I'd better go see to my other customers, but before I do, we've got a planning meeting for the party on Saturday at 1 PM - can you make it?"

"Fine by me. I'm going to see my parents in the morning, as usual, but I've got the afternoon free." He looked inquiringly at Harry, who nodded.

"Great! See you then. Meet me by the Hogwarts kitchens, we'll show you into the Common Room." Neville's eyes followed her across the pub, and he sighed to himself. _I am such an idiot. Any number of girls who_ _are totally enthralled with the famous war hero,_ _and the only one I want is the one who still sees me as her awkward Herbology tutor._

Luckily, Harry was oblivious as usual, and most of the way through his shepherd's pie to boot. "I guess you were hungry, Harry?" he teased.

"Sorry." He looked up, ruefully. "Old habits. I had to eat fast, at the Dursleys', to get enough before Dudley snatched whatever it was."

"I'd say you were raised by wolves, but wolves are kinder to their cubs." Neville shook his head angrily. "My relatives may have tried to drown me and drop me out of second-story windows - mind you, that was just Uncle Algie and he was a bit eccentric. he never meant any harm - but at least they never starved me."

Harry shrugged. "Dudley did grow up, eventually. I got a letter from him, the other day, in fact. Nothing huge, just a note telling me they were all safe and had survived the war, and hoping I was the same. But it was something, coming from him. He's not a bad guy, at heart, I don't think. He just got spoiled growing up, which wasn't his fault."

"You've got a kind heart, Harry. I don't know if I could forgive them, if I were you."

"Yeah, well, they can't hurt me anymore." He shrugged again, and changed the subject.

After dinner, Harry headed back home, saying he ought to get some sleep before another strenuous day of Auror training. Neville, meanwhile, took a deep breath and went to ask Hannah a question that'd been on his mind all evening.

"Um, Hannah? I was wondering...Gran wants to go traveling for a while, and the house is kind of big and clunky for one person to rattle around in all by myself, and I'd kind of like to live nearer work and especially St. Mungo's, since you can't really Floo to St. Mungo's - so, um, are there any rooms available to rent in the Cauldron?" He ran his fingers through his hair, aware he was prattling on like an idiot.

She brightened. "Yes, we've got a set of rooms free. Want to see?"

He nodded, and she led him upstairs.

"Here we go. This is the nicest one available - the windows even open on the front garden, see?'

It was, indeed, a lovely suite - a bedroom with a sizable canopied bed, a wardrobe, armchair, and private bathroom, opening on to a pleasant-looking living room furnished with comfortable chairs and a couch enclosing a carved wooden table, a cozy-looking fireplace, and a desk set perfectly positioned to make the most of the light coming in through the wide windows. Bookshelves lined two of the walls, empty at the moment but quite sturdy in appearance, obviously just right for Neville's collection of heavy Herbology texts (and, admittedly, his no-less-treasured collection of old cozy mysteries).

"This is perfect. What's the rent?"

She named a figure he found quite reasonable, especially when she said, "That comes with meals, too, at least breakfast and dinner."

"Good, because I never really learned to cook."

"You didn't?" The surprise in her voice suggested he might as well have said he never learned how to read, or dress himself.

"Great-Aunt Enid was sweet, but she had really old-fashioned ideas about males in the kitchen, and when she died, well, Gran just never really bothered to teach me. Honestly, she's not the world's best cook herself, either- we ate a lot of sandwiches and tinned soup when I was younger. And then I went to Hogwarts, where the house-elves do all of it, so there never seemed to be much opportunity."

"I'll teach you, if you like." The words came out quickly, impulsively, and she might have been blushing, but it was difficult to tell in the dim evening light.

"I'd love that, but do you have time? I mean, with studying and running a business and all?"

"If you have time, I do. We're closed Sunday, and I can't study all day...Sunday afternoon?"

"That works for me. But seriously, you'd give up your free afternoon to do the same thing you do all week?"

"It's different cooking with someone else. Much more fun. It'll be just the break I need from my textbooks. And I'd have to cook dinner anyway - this way I'll have someone to eat it with."

"In that case, yeah, I'd like that. Thank you." He knew he was grinning foolishly, but there didn't seem to be any way to stop. _A lesson and d_ _inner with her? Every week? I can live with that._

"Anytime." The way she was smiling at him made him think he'd never have trouble casting a Patronus again. They stood looking at each other for a minute or so, leaving him mildly breathless, until she ducked her head, embarrassed, breaking the spell. "So when would you like to move in?"

"Probably tomorrow evening. I'll bring over the first quarter's rent after work. I don't have that much stuff, and I can move the books and plants over bit by bit as I go. And I suspect Gran wants to be free of having to worry about me as soon as possible. She's done twice her share of child-rearing, and it's about time she got to retire."

Hannah laughed. "She'll always worry about you, you know. It's what parents and grandparents do."

"But at least she can worry about me from a nice cabana on the French Riviera or something."

"That sounds fair," she said judiciously.

Indeed, Gran seemed relieved when he told her his plans that night. "I'm glad you've found a livelier place to live, Neville. A young man shouldn't be all alone in a hulking great place like this, with no one but the family ghosts for company. And I hear the new landlady is a very pretty young woman indeed." Her eyes twinkled at him.

"It's Hannah, Gran, Hannah Abbott whom I used to tutor in Herbology. She's known me for ages. Don't go marrying us off just yet, please." He was aware that he was blushing.

"Don't wait too long, lad. The wizarding population is in serious trouble, after the last war. We need babies, and we need them soon."

"She's a friend, not a brood mare. I'll get married and have kids when the time is right, I promise. It's not that I don't want to, after all. Eventually, that is."

"Well, well. Just make sure she's a girl with some sense. Like your mother. Do not bring home one of those flighty gigglers who only want to say they've slept with a war hero, please. I don't require the headache."

He laughed. "No chance of that, Gran. I like intelligent women."

"See that you do."


	5. Chapter 5: It Should Have Been Me

By the third or fourth day after Neville had moved in, Hannah had things down to a science. She was mildly disappointed to find that he was the sort of man who came down for breakfast fully dressed, but then, having lived with his grandmother for so many years, it was probably to be expected. He wasn't a terribly picky eater, either - in fact, he had protested that all she really needed to do was leave him a box of cereal and some milk, and a pot of tea, and he'd be fine. She had informed him that he was being silly, that if he was going to go off and fight Dementors and Death Eaters he ought to have some nourishing protein in him, and that cooking for people was what Hufflepuffs DID.

"You're lucky you're not boarding with Ernie," she teased. "You tell him he'll be cooking for two, and he thinks you mean two small armies."

"I'm not complaining, Hannah," he said, looking at the boiled egg, sausages, grilled tomato and toast on his plate. "Not in the least. But you've been up till closing last night, and now you get up early to do all this?"

"This is easy. Just throwing things on the grill and boiling some water. Anyway, the only thing that's changed for me with you here is that now I have someone to talk to while I eat. I don't sleep much, and no matter how late I go to bed, somehow I'm always up by 7 or so. Used to drive Susan crazy, in the dorms." She took a sip of tea.

"Nightmares?" He looked at her, concern on his face.

"Sometimes, since Mum died. But mostly, I've never really needed as much sleep as most people. Which is why this job is ideal for me." She paused, realizing why that had been the first thing on his mind. "You have nightmares? Often?"

"Pretty much every night, since the war," he admitted. "Last year, I was mostly too tired to dream, but now...they keep coming back."

"The same one every time?"

"Not exactly, but they've always about the war, or about the people we're chasing now. Somehow, the Death Eaters or the Dementors get the upper hand, and people die. Or the people who died come back and blame me for letting them die. Colin, Fred, Professor Lupin and his wife..." his voice broke, just a bit, not enough to notice if she hadn't been paying attention, but she heard, and put a hand on his for comfort.

"None of those are your fault. None of them would ever blame you. Fred'd probably laugh at you for even thinking that, you know he would. All of them chose to stand and fight, just as you did, and you risked dying every bit as much as they did."

"I know that, in my head. I guess my heart still can't figure it out." He smiled ruefully at her, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Some part of me still thinks it should have been me. Colin had a brother, and parents, and he was so young, Hannah, and so small - his body barely weighed anything when we..." His voice broke there for real, and he had to wipe his eyes before going on. "Fred - George will never be the same again, not to mention his parents and his other brothers and Ginny. And the Lupins had a son who'll never know his parents now, and Merlin knows I know how much that hurts. Truth is, I've got no family who'll remember me but Gran, and Gran would be proud if I died bravely - that's what she raised me for. It should have been me, Hannah. I was expendable. They weren't." His face was bleak.

Her heart and her throat felt agonizingly tight, the horror of what he'd just said so casually rendering her unable to speak for a moment. _That's what she raised me for? I was expendable?_ When the words came, though, they came in a rush. "Oh, Merlin, Neville, _no_! You aren't expendable, not to me, not to anyone. And your Gran - McGonagall had to hold your Gran back, when you were standing there all alone in front of the Death Eaters - she was bound and determined to run out and kill them all to defend you. Didn't you know? And...Neville, if you'd died, I'd've...I... _"_ her heart stuck in her throat again, and a treacherous tear ran down her cheek.

He brushed it away gently with one finger, looking startled. "I matter that much to you, Han?"

"Of course you do. You're not used to mattering to people, are you?" she asked, softly.

He shook his head, not meeting her eyes. "I guess I've just always been kind of a loner."

"You matter to me. You matter to a lot of people. More than you know. Take care of yourself, all right? You're anything but 'expendable'." She practically spat the last word, but then paused, as something else occurred to her."Is that why you joined the Aurors? To keep risking your life until you get killed, so that you don't feel guilty about being a survivor anymore?"

"No. I don't think so, anyway. It was just...what I was always supposed to do. Following in my parents' footsteps. And, y'know, when Kingsley Shacklebolt asks you to do something, you don't say no."

"Is it what you really want to do?"

"I don't know. It feels...like habit. There's fighting to be done, so I do it."

She rolled her eyes, but there was affection on her face. "Gryffindors."

"That's what we're here for," he said, his lips quirking up in a wry smile.

"There's more to you than fighting, you know. Speaking of which, Professor Sprout asked me to let you know that you're always welcome in the greenhouses, even if you have technically graduated. She misses you. And so does the Venomous Tentacula. It's been a bit droopy lately."

"Is it getting enough Chizpurfle shells? It really does need the calcium." He looked concerned.

"You know Professor Sprout wouldn't neglect that. I think it just misses you."

He smiled at her, and this time the smile reached his eyes, too. "Thanks, Hannah. I'll drop by there later on. You're right, a little greenery will do me good."

"Doesn't it always?" She couldn't help smiling back, but part of her heart ached to grab hold of him and never let him go until he knew, down to his bones, how irreplaceable he was to her.


	6. Chapter 6: A Letter from Luna

Saturday morning, Neville found an exhausted owl on his window sill, the last relay in a series from Luna in Mongolia. Gratefully, she took a chunk of meat from him and yielded up her burden before going to sit on a tree branch outside to devour the food in peace and have a nap. Opening the package, he found not only a letter for him, but a small bag with an Extendable Charm on it, containing a whole array of plant seedlings. He looked through them with growing delight, finding species he was sure he recognized from his reading but had never seen in person. _Bless her thoughtfulness_ _, and her sharp eyes_ _. These are incredible!_

Her letter was cheerfully enthusiastic, apparently delighted with her fellow travelers, especially the co-head of the expedition, one Rolf Scamander. Grandson of the famous magizoologist, he gathered. Quite good-looking, he gathered. Very charming, too, and with a whole host of fascinating creatures, including a Bowtruckle that had decided Luna was her tree, and had braided herself a nest in Luna's hair and refused to leave. Luna had a serious crush, he noted with amusement. Maybe more. Surprisingly, he felt not a twitch of jealousy, just pleasure in his friend's happiness. _It was fun while it lasted, but we were made for different lives. I care for her, I always will, but she never had my heart_ _, and I doubt I ever had hers_ _._

He practically bounced down the stairs, eager to show Hannah the plants, and her eyes brightened when she saw him. "You look happy this morning - good news?" She pushed a plate across to him, and he poured himself a cup of tea.

"I got a letter from Luna, she's doing well, and she sent me some seedlings. Take a look at these!" He was puzzled to see her face fall a bit when she heard Luna's name, but she brightened again at the sight of the plants.

"Ooh, what are those? Is that a Chinese Chomping Cabbage?"

"I think so. It ate my Remembrall, anyway. No loss," he hastened to add, "it didn't do any good anyway. Never told me what I'd forgotten...here, distract it with a sausage, that'll keep it busy. I think this one's a rare Reciting Peony. When it blooms, it'll be able to digest and repeat back pages of writing. Buddhist monks used to use them to recite scriptures during meditation and meals. And that one, that one might be a Pearl of Wisdom- the seeds are gorgeous, they're iridescent purple and gold, and they're supposed to enhance intelligence when worn or eaten or both. I think there were a couple in Ravenclaw's diadem."

"Where did she get all these?"

"Luna's got eyes that see things other people miss," he said, fondness warming his voice.

"Are you still...do you still have feelings for her?" Hannah's voice sounded a bit shaky.

 _Is Hannah...jealous?_ _Over_ me? He grinned at her reassuringly, his heart unexpectedly lightened by the thought. "Warm, friendly feelings, feelings which are delighted to see her happily falling for someone else. Her expedition leader, Rolf Scamander, at least if I'm reading between the lines right. From what she writes, he seems like a goodhearted soul, who can match Luna enthusiasm for enthusiasm- and he seems to like her too, or at least he doesn't seem to mind that she's bonding with his Bowtruckles. They'll do very well together."

"Maybe she'll finally find that Crumple-Horned Snorkack." Hannah's shoulders relaxed slightly, and her dimples showed again.

"It'd be neat if she did. Prove everyone wrong. In the meantime, though, she's found some pretty impressive plants for us. Like this one." He picked up a smallish plant with broad green leaves and a delicate furled white flower. "I think it's a Unicorn's Umbrella - they clean the air where they're planted, and make people around them feel young, healthy, and invigorated. It does well in pots, and we should be able to get cuttings from it when it's grown some more. They'd be really pretty on the tables here, if we could get enough - they don't mind shade, but they do like to be around people, or other living things. They'd help draw in customers for you."

"That's awfully sweet, but she sent them to you..."

"And I'm living here, after all. Might as well help with your brightening-up project. Not that you aren't succeeding brilliantly on your own, the place looks brand-new, but every little bit helps. Plus it grows faster around people, so we should have more cuttings soon, including some for Professor Sprout. She's probably going to end up with most of these for the Hogwarts greenhouses - Hogwarts has more resources than I do, and anyway, some of these need professional study."

"You're pretty close to professional. Ever thought of actually becoming an Herbologist for real, instead of just a hobby?"

He sighed. "I'd love to. But there aren't that many jobs in the field...and what I'm doing's important."

"You light up when you're around plants, though - almost like a different person. A much happier person."

"I suppose I am." He ran a finger idly over the Unicorn's Umbrella leaf, which curled happily at the touch, then unfurled. "Always have been. But...they're spending an awful lot of time and money training me, and the need for Aurors is pretty dire. I can't just walk away and go plant-hunting for the rest of my life."

"Much as you'd like to." She grinned mischievously at him.

"Well, yes. Call it a dream, for when things get better and times are less troubled. At least I can surround myself with plants here. Incidentally, do you mind if I play in the garden a bit? I've got some ideas about that shrubbery, and the space around the windows..."

"You do that, and I'll give you a discount on your rent. I haven't got time to do enough with the outside space, as much as I want to, and good gardeners are hard to find. Now eat your breakfast - I didn't cook it for the Chomping Cabbage." She waggled a teaspoon at him.

"Yes, ma'am." He grinned impertinently at her, and buttered a slice of toast.

 _Dear Luna,_

 _It's good to hear from you, and good to know you're having a great time._ _Please be careful tracking the yeti, and keep your fire spells handy._

 _Thanks so much for the samples._ _So many new and interesting plants I've never seen before - I'm having a marvelous time sorting through them_ _and figuring out what kind of care they need. There were some in there that I'd always thought were mythical_ _, and quite a lot of them are sure to have useful properties that we don't know much about at all._ _Professor Sprout will be delighted too – I think you've singlehandedly doubled the species available for study in her Herbology classes._ _And since I'm living above the Leaky Cauldron now, I've passed some of them on to Hannah Abbott for the garden - she sends her thanks as well._

 _We've- Harry, Ron and I, that is – been_ _busy_ _. There's the standard Auror training regimen, of course, but there's also a lot of on-the-job training, since the Aurors are stretched rather thin right now and need every hand we've got. Mainly, we spend a lot of time these days_ _driving escaped Dementors away from places they shouldn't be,_ _not that there's any place they really should be - the bloody things are making nuisances of themselves in populated areas, now that they're no longer confined to Azkaban_ _. They've gotten a bit close for comfort a couple times, but nothing we can't handle yet. It helps that I've finally managed to summon a corporeal Patronus -_ _it's a mongoose, Hermione says, which is apparently a cute little weasel-like creature from India that hunts snakes. Drives the Dementors back just as well as Harry's stag or Ron's terrier, so that's fine._

 _When there isn't too much trouble afoot, we've been_ _practicing for the Stealth and Disguise portion of our Auror tests. Minister Shacklebolt says we_ _can pass immediately if we can disguise ourselves so that he_ _doesn't recognize us._ _So far I've failed that test a few times, and so have the others. Ron, for example, was doing brilliantly as a street magician using some Muggle magic tricks_ _he learned from his brothers_ _– but then forgot to transfigure Pigwidgeon into a rabbit before pulling him out of a hat. Harry tried to pose as a postman, but forgot that the post doesn't come on Sundays._ _I...well, I_ _tried to pose as a gardener, figuring I'd do what I know best, but I forgot that Muggles don't have to worry about their plants eating them, and I dodged a bit too quickly when a branch hit my ankles._ _And by "_ _dodged"_ _, I mean I_ _tripped and fell headlong_ _into a bush and instinctively immobilized the branch with a spell._ _At least it provided the Minister with some harmless amusement._ _I've always been good at that._

 _Hermione's been rather busy – she's the only one of us who has actually gone back for_ _all of_ _her N.E.W.T.S, and she's working part-time in the Ministry to boot. We barely see her, except for Ro_ _n, of course_ _. I don't know how she does it- maybe she has a Time-Turner or something._

 _The Sorting Hat, thankfully, seems to have suffered no permanent damage from the events of last year – the first-years have been duly sorted into Houses and no one's hair caught on fire_ _at all._ _There was a rather larger student among them, though he'd already been sorted_ _– now that we all know_ _Hagrid_ _was innocent of the whole basilisk mess, and the Ministry's in saner hands, he's been reinstituted as a student_ _on the Headmistress's orders,_ _third-year level,_ _and his wand repaired. He's ecstatic._ _Harry bought him an owl,_ _in thanks for Hedwig,_ _and he_ _actually broke down crying for joy._ _He's named her Harriet, in tribute, and I think Harry was flattered._

 _Speaking of Houses and Sorting,_ _Hannah has begun lobbying McGonagall for an all-Hogwarts common room, in addition to the House-specific ones. She thinks, and I agree, that we'd be a lot better off if the Houses learned to cooperate with each other and respect each other's strengths rather than always being in competition. McGonagall is seriously considering the idea. In the meantime, Hannah and a bunch of the other Hufflepuffs are planning to use the Room of Requirement to throw_ _a big Harvest Home party_ _for everyone, of the "get-to-know-your-classmates-from-other-Houses" sort._ _I think it's a great idea, and I'm glad it's Hufflepuff House taking the lead – this is really their strength._ _Gryffindor gets the next one, though, for Guy Fawkes Day, and Seamus is already having a blast - literally - planning a fireworks display to rival all fireworks displays._

 _Also, it looks like the Headmistress found a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher – it's kind of a miracle, as we were pretty much running out of them over here._ _Would you believe she went and got_ _Viktor Krum_ _to take the job?_ _It's a brilliant choice if you ask me – he's got boatloads of experience,_ _no one knows the Dark Arts and how to counter them better than he does,_ _he's tough but fair and kind when he needs to be, and he can take over for the Headmistress as faculty sponsor for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Ginny is ecstatic, because she's been hoping to try out for the Holyhead Harpies at the end of the year and this gives her a chance to shine, but Ron was a bit worried until he saw Krum's lovely new_ _girlfriend_ _,_ _Tzveta._ _Hermione just laughed, told Ron not to be silly, and made friends instantly with Tzveta._ _Did you know Hermione spoke Bulgarian?_

 _I'll pass on your regards to Gran - she's gone off to the South of France for a well-earned vacation. She says she_ _loves me, but she_ _'s done with child-rearing, and that if I ever see fit to present her with great-grandchildren, I had better survive to raise them myself. I don't dare defy her._

 _Hope you're enjoying your travels._ _Write often._

 _Love,_

 _Neville_


	7. Chapter 7: Legilemens

Promptly at ten, according to his normal Saturday routine, Neville stopped by St. Mungo's to see his parents. His father actually made eye contact with him this time, which encouraged him, illogically, even though he knew it didn't mean much. His mother rocked and hummed as usual, but he could have sworn she showed a flicker of interest when he talked about the plants Luna had sent. _Professor Sprout always said I got my Herbology talent from her, after all._

He was startled, as he finished up the one-sided conversation at the end of the hour, by the appearance of a plump elderly woman wearing a healer's uniform, with a brilliant smile and a thick American accent – he guessed New York. "You must be young Mr. Longbottom. I'm Dr. Kowalski, but please, call me Queenie, everyone does. Kingsley asked me to come and work with your folks, because I'm a Legilemens, best one in the wizarding world if I do say so myself."

 _Oh, Merlin._ He snapped up his mental shields as fast as possible. _Not another one._

"Oh, no, honey, no, I'm not like that. I promise." She put a hand on his arm, and he could feel her mind touch his, warm, gentle and motherly, but strong enough to reach through his shields as if they hadn't been there at all. But there was not a drop of cruelty in her, no danger, no promise of fear or pain, and he relaxed, gradually. "I'm a healer, honey, not like him. I've got no desire whatsoever to take over the world, and I certainly ain't gonna hurt No-Maj's, 'specially since I married one. Ain't never met a man to match my sweet Jakie, even if he couldn't wave a wand." The look in her eyes suggested that Jakie was? had been? a very lucky man indeed.

"No-Maj's?"

"What you call Muggles. I promise, I only use my power for good." She smiled at him, a sweet, dimpled smile, and patted him on the shoulder. "I feel like I know you already, actually- seen your face in both your parents' minds."

"Both of them? Usually only Mum reacts..." He glanced involuntarily at his father, still smiling into the air, rocking peacefully back and forth.

"Outside, yeah. But your Poppa's glad to see you, even if he don't show it. Yours and your Gramma's face are the only ones that stick with him – everything else is kinda misty, but you two are his beacons in the fog. And your Momma – she might not have it all clear in her pretty head who exactly you are, but as far as her heart's concerned, you hung the moon. Gives you gum wrappers, don't she? But in her mind, they're charms to keep you safe...she loves you like nobody else, I promise she does."

All of a sudden, his throat was very tight indeed, and he had to duck his head for a moment so she wouldn't see the tears in his eyes.

"Oh, honey, go ahead and cry. It'll do you good." She put an arm around his shoulder and offered him a handkerchief. "You're such a sweet boy. In eighteen years, you ain't missed a week of coming to see 'em, except when you were hidin' out raisin' your army and being hunted by those nasty Death Eaters, which as far as I'm concerned is good enough excuse for anyone. Your momma was so glad to see you safe and alive again when you came back, though."

He remembered. She had even smiled at him, and had given him a whole handful of gum wrappers that day. But..."Not my army. Dumbledore's Army."

"And he was a good man, and a wise one, but he wasn't the one training or fighting or watchin' his comrades die, not by then he wasn't. Don't sell yourself short. You've done great things, young man. You deserve to take the credit." Clearly a smile was her face's natural expression, and he realized that she must have been a raving beauty in her youth.

She laughed out loud, a thoroughly joyous laugh. "Jakie would've said I still am."

"Sorry, I, uh..."

"Yes, I know, it's hard to deal with someone who can read your thoughts. But I promise, I ain't seen nothin' in your head, or your parents', that would make me think anything of you but good." Her expression turned serious. "Now, there's a technique I'd been hoping to try, which is why I was hanging around waiting to meet you. Would you be willing to let me draw you into mental contact with your parents, see if we can reach them, get them to respond? They might react to you – they might even remember you, as much as they can. It ain't gonna be comfortable, I warn you. But...there might be something there, something left that we can bring out."

"I'll do anything." The words came out of him in a rush. "Anything that will help them."

"I know you will, honey. But you're going to need some preparation first. This isn't going to be easy. Are you willing to open your mind to me for a bit? I promise I won't probe or do anything that hurts."

He swallowed hard, then nodded. _Or should I? She's going to find out_ _the things Kingsley's been teaching us, the Order secrets_ _, the talking Patronuses_ _..._ and he realized he shouldn't even be thinking those things around a Legilemens...

"Kingsley knows I can't very well help learning that sort of thing just by you being around. He also knows I won't tell. I've got the highest level of clearance the Ministry's got. Don't you worry about it. But that is a really cute little critter you got, honey."

"Um, thanks."

"Cute and fierce, just like you." She patted him on the cheek.

He had no earthly idea how he was supposed to react to that, so he kept quiet.

"Now, close your eyes and take a deep breath..."

He did, inhaling deeply, holding the breath, and then exhaling slowly, as Shacklebolt had taught them to do when preparing to face down Dementors. She nodded in approval, and he felt her mind reach out to his, gently drawing him into what felt like the mental equivalent of one of Great-Aunt Enid's generous hugs. _I miss Auntie Enid..._ "Yes, that's it, honey. Think of me like an auntie."

He wondered obscurely why he trusted her so much, so suddenly, having met her five minutes ago, but there could be no hiding, no lying in this mind-to-mind touch. _And nothing to fear,_ he felt her say. Gently, very gently, the tendrils of her mind touched his, the touch of a professional healer rather than a lover, but no less warm for all that. _There,_ she thought suddenly, and touched part of his consciousness with her thoughts. _Here's the bit that will help you stand firm in the middle of the storm. What you want to do – you're a Herbologist, a_ _i_ _n't you? - grow roots. Right there. Picture them reaching down,_ _find the soil beneath you,_ _that's right..._

It was about an hour later when she finished and pulled her consciousness away from his, but it felt like only a few minutes. But he felt somehow more stable, more focused, calmer than he had ever been, and he sat for a few minutes, just enjoying it. She nodded, smiling at him. "You did well, honey. Keep practicing that. Next week, maybe we'll try bringing you into your Momma's mind – she's a bit easier to reach than your Pop."

"Thank you." He reached a hand to take hers. "You don't...no, you do know how grateful I am for all this. Of course you do."

"It's my job, honey, and I'm glad to do it. You run along and be good now." Her eyes twinkled mischievously at him. "And tell that pretty blonde at the Leaky Cauldron how you feel about her. She's a dear. You'd be lovely together. And take it from my sister, Hufflepuffs make the best sweethearts."

He was suddenly bright red. "She'd have to feel the same way..."

She laughed out loud, and patted his cheek again. "Oh, honey. You looked in a mirror lately? Trust me, no sane woman's going to kick you out of bed for eatin' crackers."

He _really_ didn't know how to respond to that one, and thankfully, she was merciful enough to let him escape.


	8. Chapter 8: Down the Hobbit Hole

"So you're finally getting the guts to make your move on Neville, hmm?" Susan teased. "Having breakfast with him every morning, dragging him into Hufflepuff business..." They were, in fact, waiting just outside the kitchen for their Gryffindor guests to arrive for the meeting. Cinnamon and sugar smells drifting from the kitchen signaled that the traditional Hufflepuff pre-event bake-off was in full swing.

Hannah's face warmed uncomfortably. "He's just renting from me, is all. He's the great gorgeous war hero now - pretty girls hit on him every night. Lots of 'em. And I'm still just plain old Hannah, the girl he used to tutor, who's buying the pub he lives in. No reason he'd be interested, he never has been before. We're just friends, that's all, we've always been friends."

"Has he ever taken any of the pretty girls who hit on him up on it?" Susan raised her eyebrows.

"No...I don't think so. He's probably too busy, he always looks tired when he comes back from work for dinner...but still, I can't see why he'd fall for me when there are a hundred prettier, cleverer, more interesting girls who want him..."

"You underestimate yourself, Hannah. Always have. Who was it he was so eager to share his new plants with this morning?"

"Neville will cheerfully talk to anyone willing to listen, when he has new plants to talk about. You know that."

"And I know that those who share his fascination with growing things are few and far between. Basically, it's you and Professor Sprout, and she's too old for him."

Hannah laughed, and swatted Susan on the arm. "Hush, I think they're coming."

Indeed, Harry and Neville rounded the corner, Neville saying emphatically, "No, I don't care how annoying she is, you are not feeding Sirius's mother's portrait to the Chomping Cabbage. You'll make it sick."

"She's making me sick," Harry groused.

"Have you tried blocking her in with wood panels? Or a little soundproofed cupboard?" Susan took Harry by the arm and led him down the hall, deftly leaving Hannah to follow with Neville.

"He did," Neville gave Hannah a rueful look. "It rotted away within a week. Her language is that vile."

Hannah winced. "Ouch. That doesn't sound pleasant to live with."

"It's not. I wonder if Gran would have any suggestions. She went to school with Mrs. Black, after all."

"She did?"

"Yep. She, McGonagall, Susan's Aunt Amelia, and Mrs. Black were all the same year, when they were in Hogwarts. Gran and McGongagall in Gryffindor, Mrs. Bones in Hufflepuff, and of course Mrs. Black in Slytherin. Ravenclaw got off easy - Professor Flitwick was too smart to get involved. Professor Sprout was five years older, and she was a prefect in Hufflepuff the year they all got there. She's told me some stories..."

Susan laughed out loud, turning her head to face them. "Yeah, I've heard some of those, from her and from Aunt Amelia. Did she ever tell you the one about the time Walburga Black accused your Gran of being a blood traitor for having a half-blood best friend, and your Gran snapped back that she'd rather be a Muggle or a Squib than, let's see, what were the words, an 'inbred harpy with the looks of an Acromantula and the temperament of a Blast-Ended Skrewt'?"

"Actually, Grandpa told me that one. It was the moment he knew he was in love, he said." Neville chuckled.

` Susan had reached the unobtrusive-looking pile of barrels that marked the entrance, and rapped on them gently in the prescribed pattern. The entire pile swung outward, revealing a low circular door. This opened to reveal Ernie MacMillan beckoning them inside, and they all went through, one after another. Hannah kept a close eye on Neville's face, wanting to see how he'd react.

He didn't disappoint. The moment he straightened up and got a good look at the room around him, his eyes widened and an expression of absolute delight spread over his face. He turned in a circle, taking in the warm golden light, the soft comfortable seats, the cozy fireplace, and most of all, the plants spreading stems and branches and leaves in every direction. "That's...that's...and there's..." he tried to identify them all at once and got stuck. Making up his mind, he wandered over to the anti-gravity tree, its roots lightly brushing the ceiling and its branches hovering at eye level, and experimentally poked at its leaves. It bounced back, gently maintaining its position. He turned to Hannah, his face full of childlike glee. "This is incredible! What do you use to feed the roots?"

"He'll be like this for a while," Harry murmured to Susan and Ernie. "He's always like this around new plants."

"It's OK. We know Neville. That's why we brought you guys in a bit early, so he'd have time to geek out a bit. And Hannah's nearly as bad."

She might have taken offense, but she knew it was true. She, too, had spent a good half a day "geeking out" over the anti-gravity tree when Professor Sprout brought it back, and she'd been delighted to find an excuse to get Neville in to see it. "It eats water vapor and sound. We've been experimenting a bit to figure out what it likes to listen to, though. It likes friendly chatter - see, the leaves are reaching towards us as we talk - and it loves to be sung to. A group of us got a choir together and sing to it a few times a week, most of it classical but some love songs and comic opera - that seems to make it happy. Sometimes it waves to the music, as if it's dancing. It reacts differently to chanting, though. Doesn't wave for that, but it does emit this deep purring vibration, like a cat, that you don't so much hear as feel. Both Buddhist and Hindu mantras seem to work, and so do Gregorian chants, and one of the fifth-years even got the same reaction by repeating 'let me pass my O.W.L.S' over and over. It hates arguments, and angry music, and if you sing it something sad, sometimes it cries."

"It cries?" He raised an eyebrow at her, fascinated.

"Well, it leaks sap. Or something."

"That's amazing. Do you mind if I try? I won't make it sad, I promise..."

"Go ahead." _His self-consciousness just melts away around plants. It's like looking at the person he might have been had he never been told he wasn't good enough..._

He took a breath, and started to sing a soft lullaby in a surprisingly sweet voice. The tree, indeed, drifted closer to him, clearly listening, and the branches nearest him started to move in time to the song, its leaves visibly turning greener.

As he sang, the door behind them opened, and Pomona Sprout came in, ducking her head as she passed through the entry. She stopped, listening, and her face softened. When he finished, she smiled at him. "Longbottom, it has always been one of my biggest regrets that you were not a Hufflepuff. But I'm glad to see you here anyway." She looked at the couch, noticing Harry for the first time. "And you, too, Potter, of course."

 _It isn't often Harry takes second-place status to Neville..._ But he seemed to be taking it well, anyway - he only nodded and said, "Thank you, Professor."

"Professor, where did you find this? It's astounding." Neville was still focused on the tree, which seemed to like him. At least, it was floating practically over his head, and one branch was gently brushing his hair.

"Halfway up the steepest mountain I have ever seen. Our guide insisted on asking its permission before we moved it, and I suppose it was up for some travel adventures itself, because it came all by itself. Followed us like a curious kitten hoping to be adopted. We didn't even need to pack it up until we got near Muggle territory. Which is good, because magic only works on it if it wants it to. We think."

"I'm glad it came back with you. It's really gorgeous."

"Careful, Hannah," Ernie murmured under his breath, coming up behind her. "You're looking at him the way he's looking at that tree."

She turned her head away, blushing fiercely. She had no doubt that it was true.

Rescue came in the form of a group of fellow Puffs bearing food and eager expressions. "Time to get this meeting started," Susan announced, standing up as Hannah and Ernie went to rescue a second-year whose tray looked about to tip over.

The meeting came to order, at least the normal level of order for Hufflepuff House, and the discussion got underway. Hannah noticed that both Neville and Harry were taking notes, and that both mostly kept quiet, observing the discussion rather than taking part. Neville did step in to offer to loan some of the plants Luna had sent - Professor Sprout lit up at the mention of the Unicorn's Umbrella, and demanded cuttings for the Hogwarts greenhouses, as soon as the seedlings had grown enough - and Harry agreed cheerfully to judge a Scarecrow-Charming Contest. Still, they mostly stayed as inconspicuous as possible, despite the hero-worshipping gazes of the younger students.

As the meeting wrapped up, though, one of the first-year boys managed to shyly say, "Can I ask you a question, Mr. Longbottom?"

"Oh, come on, I'm just Neville, I'm not a teacher. Sure, go ahead."

The child - _Andy, wasn't it? Yes, Andy Wil_ _li_ _vent, that_ _'s his name_ \- visibly took courage from Neville's friendly smile. "How did you get your wand back, after the battle? They all say that you got disarmed, when you charged the Death Eaters - how did you fight without your wand?"

"I had the Sword to fight with, and that was more than enough. It's not just an ordinary sword, it channels magic too, in a way. It was kind of like having a huge metal wand with really sharp edges. But after the battle...OK, none of you are going to believe this, but I swear on Merlin's grave it's the absolute truth." Hannah was amused to see the whole crowd of listeners leaning closer, feeling a story about to emerge - even the tree looked interested. "I was tired, and there were too many people around, and I wanted to go someplace quiet and think about things. So I went for a walk down by the lake. And I was just sitting there, watching the water and thinking about everyone we'd lost, and how odd it was to have no more battles to fight, when I heard a sound, right at my feet. Kind of like this." He gave a hoarse choked 'rbt', that made Andy and a couple of his friends giggle involuntarily. "And there, down in the grass, was my old pet toad Trevor, who'd escaped just as we got to school at the beginning of the year. Hadn't seen him since, and to be honest I was relieved, because he was out of reach of the Carrows that way. But this was him, I swear it was him- Harry, you know I'd know Trevor anywhere! And would you believe, he had my wand in his mouth. He dropped it at my feet, gave me a friendly ribbit, and hopped off into the water before I could do anything. So I picked it up, and I've gone down there a couple of times and left a bowl of his favorite mealworms, but I haven't seen him since. I suppose he has his own life now, but it was good to see him again."

"Had you trained him to fetch or something? Can you train toads?" Andy looked fascinated, and Hannah remembered that his familiar, too, was a toad.

"I don't think I'd trained him, not really, but he was used to me losing my wand, and sometimes he'd bring it back to me. And other things. I was kind of a forgetful kid."

"I'll say," Harry rolled his eyes. "The number of times we had to turn the Gryffindor dorm upside down to find your wand, or your potion book, or especially Trevor..."

"I was always afraid Crookshanks or Hedwig would eat him."

"Hedwig wouldn't have!" Harry protested. "She was far too smart and kind for that."

"Sorry, Harry, didn't mean to insult her. She was a good owl."

"Yeah." Hannah could tell Harry's eyes were suspiciously moist. "She was." He brushed gently at his face, and Neville rested a sympathetic hand on his friend's shoulder for a moment.


	9. Chapter 9: A Job Offer

The meeting over, Harry, Hannah and Neville were all set to head back through the fireplace, Neville giving one last longing glance back at the anti-gravity tree, when Professor Sprout asked, "Longbottom, would you stay behind for a bit? There's something I want to talk to you about."

Neville nodded, saying, "Go on without me, guys, I'll join you at the Cauldron in a little while."

When he came through the fireplace about an hour later, he looked vaguely stunned, and he was very quiet at dinner. His dinner companions barely noticed, since Ginny, taking a rare break from the Burrow while Lee and Angelina sat with George, was busy making up for lost time with Harry, Seamus was eagerly planning fireworks displays, and Dean was ebullient over having had his artwork selected for a gallery showing in Hogsmeade. But when they had all left, and Neville rose to go to bed, Hannah couldn't contain her curiosity any longer.

"So before you go, what did the Professor want earlier? You seem disturbed."

"Nothing bad, nothing bad. Just a bit...unsettling." He ran a hand through his hair nervously. "She wants to take me on as a graduate student, with the assumption that when she retires in a couple of years, I'd be her successor. She says McGonagall's already approved it."

Hannah's face lit up. "Neville, that's brilliant! You'd be perfect! It's your dream job, right?"

"Yeah, but...the need for Aurors hasn't gone away either. I couldn't turn her down, there's no way you turn down an offer to teach at Hogwarts, but...I don't know what Minister Shacklebolt's going to say. Or Gran, Merlin help me."

"If they don't tell you that this is the opportunity of a lifetime and you'd better take it, they're idiots. And neither of them are idiots."

He smiled wryly. "Idiots, no. But Gran can be rather...singleminded, and she's been telling me I should be an Auror like my parents since I was...well, as long as I can remember."

"Ask McGonagall to write her another sharp letter. The last one did wonders, as I recall."

He laughed. "It's true, it did. She looked at me like a whole new person when I came home for the holidays, as if I'd suddenly grown about ten feet tall."

"See? Problem solved. And the Minister will understand. But Neville, I'm so happy for you!"

"You don't think I'd be slipping out on my duty, letting other people take risks that I should be out there taking with them? People like Harry or Ron?"

"I don't think you have some sort of duty to always be on the front lines. You've paid your dues, Neville. You saved Hogwarts just as much as Harry did. More, because if you hadn't kept the DA going, if you hadn't stood up to the Carrows when no one else would or could, there wouldn't have been a Hogwarts left for Harry to save. No one who's really your friend, certainly not Harry or Ron, would begrudge you this - because it's your calling, and no one else can do it as well as you."

"Maybe, but...I don't want to be a slacker when there's still fighting to be done."

She glared at him. "Do you think _I'm_ a slacker, because I moved to a quiet job here running a tavern, instead of going on to be an Auror or helping reform the Ministry like Hermione? Is Ginny a slacker, for wanting a Quidditch career? What about Luna, with her creature expeditions, Ernie and his potion-designing, Dean and his art, or Seamus and that Muggle demolition company he's been apprenticing at? Does everyone else have the right to follow their dreams, but not you?"

He paused, clearly rearranging his thoughts. "You have a point."

"I always do. Many of them, actually, I'm a cook." She pointed at her knife block. "So you listen to me. Don't you dare say no to this. Talk to the Minister on Monday. He's a good guy, he'll tell you exactly what I'm telling you. Then you get McGonagall to tell your Gran off, and you're set."

"You make it sound so easy."

"It is. What's so hard about it?" She tossed him a teasing smile.

He returned it, looking far cheerier, and then paused, the serious expression spreading over his face once more. "Hannah? Thanks for...for helping me get back to myself again. Last year...I think we all got so used to fighting and hiding and surviving that we...became the people we needed to be to get through, but...well, I've kind of missed being just me, just the old quiet Neville who loves plants and doesn't have to be a hero all the time. And...it's a lot easier to find the old me when I'm with you."

"I've missed the old you, too, not that there's any you I don't l..like." She hoped he didn't notice the word she'd almost said. "There are other ways to be a hero than fighting, you know. There are kids out there who _need_ good teachers, so they can become the people they were meant to be instead of having their lives cut short, or having their potential bullied out of them, or worse, being lured into dark places kids shouldn't have to go. You've always told me Professors Lupin and Sprout saved your life, between them. You can do the same for other kids."

"Yeah. Maybe I can. And maybe you should go into mind-healing. Somehow, I always feel a million times better about things after talking to you."

"Maybe I will, someday. The war's over. We have long lives ahead of us. Time for two or three careers, if I decide I want them." She grinned at him, trying not to melt at the look in his eyes.


	10. Chapter 10: Greenhouses and Memories

The next day, after breakfast, Neville decided to head over to the greenhouses, bringing some of the plants Luna had sent him for Sprout. She greeted him with delight and enthusiasm, exclaiming over the Reciting Peony and the Pearls of Wisdom, and reminding him again to bring over a cutting of the Unicorn's Umbrella when it was big enough.

"It's thriving in the pub, really. Shouldn't be too long. It's already sending out little exploratory tendrils."

"I imagine a pub would be a fine place for it - they do like to be around people." She raised her wand, carefully drawing a stream of small pebbles into the bottom of a pot for drainage, before adding a layer of rich soil. "Have you thought about what I asked you yesterday, Longbottom?"

"Yes, and I'm going to talk to the Minister about it tomorrow. I want the position, I want it very much. but I need to know that I'm not leaving other people in the lurch."

"That's fair, dear, that's more than fair. If you need me to speak with Kingsley - or with your grandmother - just let me know. There's really no one else I would trust with this position, and I'm willing to fight for you if I need to."

"Thanks, Professor. That means a lot to me. I'm not used to being fought over."

"According to young Abbott, there are women lining up nightly in the Leaky Cauldron for the privilege."

He snorted. "She's exaggerating just a bit there. Yeah, I get hit on more than I used to, which isn't saying much. But they don't want me, they want the war hero in their imaginations." _Hannah notices that sort of thing?_ He could feel the tips of his ears go pink.

"The war hero is every bit as much you as the Herbologist is, you know."

"It doesn't feel like me. It feels like a nightmare I've woken up from but can't quite shake."

She nodded. "Understandable. Give it time, lad. You've been through hell and back."

They had worked in companionable silence for a while when the door to the greenhouse opened, and the Headmistress walked in. "Good morning, Pomona. Good morning, Longbottom, it's good to see you here. "

"Thank you, Headmistress, it's good to be here again." He smiled at McGonagall as he eased the plant he was holding carefully into the pot, nudging aside the loose soil to make room.

Her lips twitched up. "You do look quite at home here, but then, you always have. Pomona, do you have the injury report for the fourth-year class?"

"Yes, right here." She waved her wand, deftly summoning a roll of parchment from the desk. "Not too bad this year, just a couple of Bubotuber incidents. Mostly youthful carelessness."

"Well and good. Thank you. Longbottom, when you're done here, would you come by my office? I'd like a word."

"Yes, Headmistress."

He felt eleven years old again as he knocked on the door and was admitted. McGonagall had made few changes to Dumbledore's office, though it was substantially tidier than it had been, and there were two new portraits on the wall. The picture of Dumbledore gave him a cheerful smile and a nod, which he returned, but he carefully avoided looking at the portrait of Snape.

"Pomona has already, I presume, told you what she discussed with me about her plans for the Herbology position? I trust you will accept - she will take no other answer from you, and neither will I."

"Of course, Headmistress. I'd be a fool not to." He paused, and swallowed hard. "But...why me? There've got to be any number of herbologists with far more experience and skill who would give their right arms to work here."

"There are, certainly. Though with a year or two of Pomona's personal instruction, and perhaps a few field expeditions, you will be the equal of any of them. However, it is not quite your skills as a herbologist, valuable though those are, which matter most. Tell me, Neville Longbottom, what is the first and primary responsibility of any teacher at Hogwarts?" She raised an eyebrow at him.

"To keep the students safe." The answer came from him without hesitation.

She gave a sharp, approving nod. "Indeed. Teaching is vital, but wizarding is a hazardous business and dead students cannot learn. And then there is the matter of keeping Hogwarts itself safe, as a place of learning and refuge. There are always a certain...core of the professorial staff who consider ourselves first and foremost as guardians of Hogwarts, protectors of this place and the people within. That has been, for many years, myself, Pomona, Filius, Severus and of course Albus." She nodded at the two portraits, who inclined their heads in return, Snape solemn, Dumbledore smiling broadly. "And now, Severus and Albus are dead, and Pomona wishes to retire, so we need to replenish our numbers with professors who know their subject material, can teach effectively – and can and will serve as Hogwarts' guardians at need. And you, of all people, know what it is to be a guardian of this place. Given the opportunity, and the need, you risked your safety and your life to protect Hogwarts, its students, and its values, as readily and effectively as any professor, myself included."

"This is my home. I love this place. I'd do anything to keep it safe." It felt almost like an Unbreakable Vow, he thought bizarrely.

"Yes, precisely. Which is why you are the perfect choice for the next Professor of Herbology. And Longbottom...nothing makes a teacher happier than to welcome her student as a colleague. You have done me, and all of us, proud. Did I not tell you more than once that all you needed was a bit of confidence?" Her smile warmed him to his core, and was echoed by another from Dumbledore's portrait.

"I second that, young Neville. Well done, well done indeed. We shall see your picture on this wall someday, mark my words, and I look forward to it. We'll chat over old times and tell stories of the Second Wizarding War to scare the younger Headmasters." The blue eyes twinkled at him from inside the frame.

"You give me too much credit, sir." _Headmaster? Only in my wildest dreams..._

"I don't think anyone's ever given you quite enough, lad." Dumbledore looked regretful. "For which I apologize."

He nodded, unable to speak for a moment. Glancing around the room, hoping for a distraction from the embarrassing wave of emotion that was suddenly overtaking him, his eyes caught the small silver basin, sitting on a table, as though it was only a bowl, nothing terribly special, but...an idea occurred to him.

"Headmistress? May I ask a favor?"

"Yes, Longbottom?" Her eyebrows arched up.

"While I'm here, would it be possible for you to extract a memory from me of Professor Lupin, for Teddy to see in the Pensieve when the time comes? I want him to be able to see firsthand what kind of man his father was. I have no memories of my own parents, before...and I've always regretted that."

"Oh, Neville." Professor McGonagall's face softened, and she was almost speechless. "Yes, of course. And I...I have some memories of your parents, as students, which I would be glad to share with you anytime you like."

"Thank you. I might take you up on that later, actually. But for now..."

She nodded, and placed the tip of her wand gently on the side of his head. "Think back to the memory you want to give me. Picture it in your head."

He nodded, and closed his eyes, rooting himself as Dr. Kowalski had taught him the day before, and remembering. He heard again the sneering voice, felt the scorn and the cold pit of shame in his stomach...

" _Possibly no one's warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless_ _Ms. Granger_ _is hissing instructions in his ear._ "

" _I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation, and I am sure he will perform it admirably._ "

 _A_ _surge of fear mixed with gratitude_ _raced through him_ _, gratitude for this new professor who wasn't willing to take Snape's opinion of him at face value, who was willing to let him prove himsel_ _f, and fear that he would somehow screw it up again, disappoint Lupin, show him just how right Snape was._ _But Lupin was encouraging, and kindly but firmly talked him through it, helping him face down the fear_ _some boggart – in Snape's own form, no less-_ _and emerge_ _successful_ _._ _At the end, when he awarded Neville twice the points for facing his boggart twice, it felt like a triumph._

 _That's the sort of teacher I want to be_ , he thought _._ _I hope Teddy understands._

McGonagall carefully put the silver, wispy memory into a vial. "Thank you for this."

"And I'll see if I can't get Harry to contribute some too."

She nodded. "That would be most appreciated. Particularly by young Lupin. And...Longbottom?"

"Yes?"

"I understand the Hufflepuffs are trying to steal you. Especially Miss Abbott." She gave him a mock-stern look.

"Well, I, uh..." he stammered, unable to think of any sensible response.

"Would it surprise you to find out that I approve?" Her voice was uncharacteristically soft.

"What?" He looked up, feeling a bit betrayed.

"No fear, Longbottom. You'll always be a Gryffindor, you've proven that many times over. And you are one of mine, never doubt it – I had to remind Pomona of that fact many a time during your student years. I'm not giving you up that easily. But...I have spent a lifetime raising children to go to war, to be strong and brave, and I have seen too many of them maimed and killed. It does my heart good to see you finally able to turn your time and energy to more peaceful efforts."

He noticed the portrait of Dumbledore was wiping away tears. _This war has left scars on everyone._ _Even the pictures on the wall._

"Yes, ma'am. On that note, Hannah's offered me a cooking lesson this afternoon, and I'd rather not be late."

"Go, by all means, everyone should know how to cook. And give Miss Abbott my regards." Her eyes twinkled at him, and he blushed.

"Thank you, ma'am."

"One moment, if you please." The portrait of Snape spoke, unexpectedly, an odd tone to his voice.

"Yes, sir?" Neville tried to control the involuntary nervousness that still rose in his stomach at that voice, and faced the picture head-on. _Why does he still terrify me more than Voldemort ever did?_

"I believe I owe you an apology, Mr. Longbottom, and an explanation." He sounded as though he was choking on the words.

 _Well, that was...not what I expected to hear._

"I treated you appallingly when you were my student, and I deeply regret it, but I would like you to know, I did not do so without a purpose. You are aware, perhaps, that you, instead of Mr. Potter, might have been the Chosen One of the prophecy?"

"Yes, sir. Harry told me."

"It was Voldemort's original intention to kill both of you, but that plan, as you know, failed, thanks to..." his voice caught, and were there tears in the professor's eyes? "thanks to Lily Potter, leaving her son clearly marked as the boy in the prophecy. Therefore, I feared that Voldemort would turn his attentions to you as a possible recruit. You are a pureblood, a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and your parents' magical abilities and strength of will were quite well-known. You would have been most useful to him."

Neville heard again the silky, serpentine voice creeping into his ears, " _You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."_ Unconsciously, his mouth shaped the reply he'd given then. "When hell freezes over."

Snape's image nodded. "Precisely, Longbottom, precisely. But I had not yet seen you show the strength of will, then, that you did later, and I was afraid, with you bullied and neglected by your peers, that you might be tempted by Voldemort's promises of recognition, honor, prestige, as others were in your place."

"Never. Not after what happened to my parents." The thought made his stomach revolt.

"I know that now. But my actions then were designed to serve two purposes. First, to convince Voldemort, and the future Death Eaters among my Slytherin students, that you were incompetent and incapable, unworthy of recruitment. Second, to keep you afraid and suspicious of me, since I knew you associated me with the Death Eaters. And...when I spoke ill of you to Professor Lupin, it was with the full knowledge that Remus Lupin thought ill of _me_ , and that any student I disliked could be sure of his kind and supportive attention. Please believe me, my duty and my intent was to protect you – but I am sorry that I was required to be cruel to you in the process."

Neville thought for a moment, turning the new information over in his mind.

"That...makes a lot of sense, actually. Thank you, sir. For the explanation...and for the protection."

The portrait nodded, gravely. Nothing more needed to be said.


	11. Chapter 11: Unexpected Lessons

Arriving back at the Leaky Cauldron, he thought, _Home._ And was surprised for a moment, at how short a time it had taken to feel more at home there than any place he had ever lived, except possibly Hogwarts. It was certainly a brighter, warmer, and livelier place than it had been before Hannah had taken it into her care, but that wasn't all of it, certainly. _She brings the warmth with her._ Catching sight of her smile from across the room, as she rose to greet him, he knew it was true. _I wonder if it's part of her magic? A gift, that maybe she doesn't even realize she has?_

He remembered the way everyone had looked to her, last year, when someone was hurt or upset or wounded. She had come back from settling her mother's affairs to find herself smack in the middle of a world at war, and the woman she had become in that year away had proved herself more than capable of coping with that. In that short time away, she had gone from the shy, insecure fifth-year prone to anxiety attacks, to a calm, capable, stabilizing force who tended wounds, made the younger students smile through their tears, and with a gentle but firm hand here and a quiet word there, had kept the morale of the DA from going under on more than one occasion. He'd asked her about it, and all she said was, "I have nothing left to go home to, not in that world, so I have no choice but to do what I can in this one. I can't afford panic any more."

And now, he realized, she was making herself the hub of a new community - the Leaky Cauldron had gone from a dark, rather dismal-looking bar to a cheerful, welcoming space that, most evenings, bubbled over with happy activity. Now, though, it was silent and empty, but that was, if anything, more comforting for him. It felt like a privilege to him to be allowed here in its quiet hours, he and Hannah the only current residents, a place just for them. _She'd do this for any friend who rented from her and didn't know how to cook, you know._ But he couldn't help hoping that there was an extra brilliance in her eyes, a warmth in her smile that was just for him. _You're imagining things. Didn't Luna teach you anything about the dangers of falling for a friend?_

 _The way I felt about Luna was nothing like this._

 _No, this is far more dangerous,_ his heart told him sternly. _Luna was wise enough to know the two of you wouldn't work_ _long-term_ _, and kept things playful and arm's length, so you could keep the friendship after the affair was over. Hannah is just being her sweet self, and doesn't realize just how susceptible you are to her. She'll break your heart without ever meaning to._

 _Or maybe she won't. Maybe she does..._

"Neville? You seem preoccupied - everything OK?"

He shook off his musings and smiled at her. "Everything's fine. I'm just struck by the change in this place since you took it over. And now that I've seen it - you modeled it on the Hufflepuff Common Room, didn't you?"

She grinned."You caught me. Yes, yes, I did, and do you blame me?"

"Not in the least. It's the single coziest place I've ever been to. Thanks for bringing me there, and for letting the rest of us get a taste of it here."

"My pleasure. That tree really liked you."

"She's bringing it out for the Herbology N.E.W.T. classes later this semester. I'm trying to convince her to bring it to one of Professor Flitwick's Frog Choir concerts, to see how it reacts."

"Oooh, I bet it'd love that." She grabbed an apron hanging from a hook, and handed it to him, her own already tied around her waist. "Put that on and come with me."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Last time someone said that to me, it was Seamus and he was about to test a new type of explosive spell - it took me two weeks for my eyebrows to grow back."

She laughed. "I remember that. And this is why I'm not starting out with anything you have to set on fire."

"You know me too well for that."

"And myself. Remember those flamingoes from my Transfiguration exam..."

"Hey, I was grateful to you for that one - I was really struggling, and you gave us all a needed break. So what are we starting with?"

"Just the simple basics. Roast beef, mashed potatoes, peas, followed by apple dumplings."

"That doesn't sound all that simple."

She shrugged. "Now if we were Muggles, this would be a lot more difficult - it takes time and careful temperature control to slow-roast a good piece of beef so that it's falling-apart tender. Luckily, magic accelerates things considerably. What we want to do is make a small bubble around the beef in which time speeds up - we want it to cook for at least 24 hours in maybe half an hour of our time - and we want to keep the ambient temperature in that area at precisely 60 degrees Celsius."

"Isn't that awfully cool for roasting beef?"

"We're slow-roasting. Speed-slow-roasting, really, thanks to magic. What you want to do is to cook the beef at the temperature you want it to be in the end, but to do that safely, you have to cook it for a very long time, a full day really, which is why we need to speed up time in that little bubble. We'll sear it at the end, to brown the outside and give it flavor. That technique makes the tenderest beef, because there are enzymes that break down the meat and make it tender, that become more active when you heat the beef a bit, but die when it gets too hot. But Mum taught me a trick..."

He was astounded, as the lesson went on, what complex magic cooking took, and he said as much to her. "It can be simpler. You can always do things the Muggle way, at worst, it just takes more time and energy. But I have faith in your skills." She shot him a teasing glance. "And it's fun, really, to figure out how to use the magic you have to make the food as tasty as possible. Can be useful in other contexts, too. Remember how Mrs. Weasley took down Bellatrix Lestrange?"

As if he could ever have forgotten that beautiful, beautiful moment. "Of course. It was one of the highlights of my life."

"I'll bet." She grinned impishly at him. "That was a cooking spell she used, at the end. For making breadcrumbs. Basically, it dries things out and then shatters them. When you use it on bread, it makes a tasty topping for casseroles or a crunchy crust for cutlets. You can use it on beef, too, to make jerky, if you alter the motion a bit for slicing, rather than shattering. When you use it on people...well, you saw."

His jaw dropped. "Breadcrumbs, you say."

"Do not _ever_ make the mistake of underestimating household skills, especially those involving knives and fire. Any competent cook could write a book on the topic - Combat Tips From the Kitchen."

"I...bet you could at that. So what else are you teaching me that could be useful in battle?"

"Well, the time acceleration spell we're using on the roast beef can age a person quickly, and then there's the spell I'm about to teach you for peeling potatoes and apples, which I suppose could take off someone's skin if you aim it right..."

"Remind me not to get you angry at me, Hannah."

"No worries, I know better than to kill my tenants." She laughed, and aimed her wand at a potato. "See, watch, it's a twisting motion like this, and the word _Pilare."_ She demonstrated, and the peel came off in a neat spiral as the potato turned. "Peelings go in the compost pile, there, and the potatoes go in the pot, like so. Now you try."

An hour or so later, they were enjoying an excellent meal, and Neville was feeling rather proud of himself. "Thanks, Hannah. This was the most fun I've had in ages."

"Anytime. I enjoyed it too. Plus it's nice to be able to pay you back a bit for all the tutoring you've given me in Herbology."

"As if it's any hardship for me to spend more time around plants." _Or you._

"It was a godsend for me, anyway. I was so convinced they were going to send me home, tell me I was no good at magic and should go join the Muggle world as Mum wanted."

"Not a chance. Magic's your birthright. They couldn't kick you out unless you did something that actually got someone killed. And sometimes not even then. Remember that time when Harry..."

The conversation rambled, in its old accustomed fashion, and they were sitting cozily on the sofa talking about anything and everything when there was a tapping at the window, and they both turned to see a very impatient owl pecking the glass. Hannah got up and opened the window, and the owl promptly flew in and landed next to Neville.

He recognized the bird immediately, having shared a dormitory with his wizard for seven years. "Hello, Oscar. Seamus all right?"

The bird's natural air of dignity remained unruffled as he carefully dropped an envelope in front of Neville. He opened it, handing a chunk of roast beef to Oscar, and read:

 _Dear Neville,_

 _Well, it finally happened. Our Dean's gone completely round the bend, and forgotten everything everyone's ever warned him about getting involved with Irishmen. This evening, the fool actually went and proposed. Naturally, I said yes before the poor bloke could come to his senses and escape._

 _But I've a bit of a problem, you may guess. Since there's no way we can get married in a Catholic church, what with Dean being both male and worse, Protestant, there's also no way I'm going to persuade my family to attend. Seems to me, though, that last year you were willing enough to be a brother to me when I needed one - would you do me the honor of standing with me at the altar and helping to keep Dean from running away?_

 _Official invitations will be going out later - and yes, you can bring a date, if only to keep the other ladies from starting a fight over who gets to dance with you. Please do, actually - it's going to be a small wedding, but I'd still rather not have my side completely outnumbered and overwhelmed by Dean's._

 _Yours,_

 _Seamus_

He looked up at Hannah, who was barely containing her curiousity. "From the look on your face, that's good news, I hope?"

"Very. Dean and Seamus are getting married, and Seamus wants me to be his best man."

"Oh, how lovely! They're so sweet together. But...doesn't Seamus have brothers?"`

"Two, neither of them wizards. But they, um, don't approve of Dean. Protestant _and_ male, you see. Shay says no one in the family's spoken to him since he came out to them."

She closed her eyes, her face pained. "I know how that is. I'm so sorry."

He kicked himself internally. _I should have remembered, her Muggle family disowned her when she went back to Hogwarts after her mum's death._ "I'm sorry, too, Hannah. Didn't mean to reopen old wounds." He took her hand, gently, concern in his eyes.

"It's all right." She shook her head, visibly pushing aside the momentary grief. "I knew the choice I was making, and so did Seamus, and I think we both chose rightly. I can't live without magic, and Seamus can't live without Dean."

"It was horrible for him, last year, when Dean was on the run." _The times I walked in on him_ _curled into a ball_ _on_ _Dean's bed,_ _pretending he hadn't been crying_ _..._ but he wasn't going to talk about Seamus's secrets publicly, not even to Hannah. "And I'm, um, really glad you came back to us too. Last year was pretty chaotic, and I never did tell you, I don't think, just how much I missed you when you were away."

"I missed you too," she said, softly. She wasn't letting go of his hand, he noted.

His heart was doing odd jumping jacks in his chest, and without knowing quite what he was saying, he blurted out, "Would you like to come with me to their wedding, as my date?"

"I'd love to." Her eyes were shining. _That look is for me?_ _From her, for me?_

The mood was broken by Oscar, who tilted his head and raised a talon, as if to say, "I have things to do, and I am not opposed to scratching if that's what it takes to get your attention so that I can go."

"Fair enough," Neville gestured with his wand, summoning a quill and parchment, and wrote a quick, congratulatory reply, his heart suddenly light as one of the owl's own feathers. He handed the paper to Oscar, who took it delicately in his beak, and carried him carefully to the window, opening it to the cool evening breeze. The owl gave him a single, solemn glance, and flew off.

"I'd best be getting to bed myself," Hannah said shyly, brushing a bit of hair behind her ear. "It's going to be a long day tomorrow."

"For us too. The Minister's had us hunting Dementors, and those things are nasty."

She shuddered. "I hate them. Awful things." A thought occurred to her, and she tilted her head at him. "You've got a corporeal Patronus now, then? What is it?"

He grinned at her. _No problem casting one now, not after she just agreed to go out with me..._ "Expecto Patronum!" The small silver mongoose leapt from his wand, darting happily around Hannah's ankles, and she laughed out loud.

"It's adorable, Neville! Some kind of ferret?"

"No, it's a mongoose. Hermione says there's a Muggle story about them, called..."

"Rikki-tikki-tavi!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together in delight. "My mother used to read me that one. Oh, that's too perfect!"

"What's yours?"

"Nothing so fierce," she said ruefully, raising her wand and concentrating for a moment before calling out, "Expecto Patronum!" A small wrenlike bird with a long tail feather flew out, swooping over the mongoose's head playfully, starting a game of what looked very much like tag. "Padma says it's a tailor-bird - she's seen them when she and Parvati went back to visit their great-grandparents in Maharashtra. They make nests by weaving vegetation together."

"So they're good at making beautiful homes - I can see why that would be appropriate for you. Look at this place." He smiled at her. "Perfect against a Dementor, actually. You don't _need_ fierce, fighting a Dementor - it's not like they can be defeated by force. You need something that fights the sadness, that sparks joy, and you're really good at making spaces joyful and warm and light."

` "I never thought of it that way before. I always envied the stronger Patronuses - what good is a little bird in a fight?"

"Against a Dementor? Brilliant. Anything that makes the world happier and more beautiful fights Dementors. I don't think you need to fear Dementors at all- you'd defeat them just by being yourself." Neville paused for a moment, startled at his own audacity. _Did I say that out loud? Oh, dear Merlin, did that just come out of my mouth_ _?_

"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me." She couldn't quite meet his eyes, but her face was warmly rose-colored and the smile sneaking over her lips gave him the courage to let the rest spill out.

"I mean it. You were a light in the darkness for all of us last year, and you're making this place a haven here and now - you've got a gift. And it means an awful lot to me." He swallowed hard, and said softly, " _You_ mean an awful lot to me. I think I'm falling for you, Hannah. Harder than I've ever fallen for anyone before."

She looked up through her lashes, a twinkle of mischief flashing in her eyes along with something else that made his heart hammer against his rib cage, and said, only, "Come on in, the water's fine. I've been in love with you for years." Before he could register what she'd just said, she had wrapped her arms around his neck and drawn his lips down to hers.

The kiss was Firewhisky and honey, ambrosia and Amortentia. Dizzily, he felt his world spin apart, fly into a billion sparkling pieces, and then reform itself with her at the center, except that she had always been there, would always be there. _Great-Aunt Enid was right - when it's real, the magic tells you. I wonder how Muggles figure it out?_

` "I have wanted to do that for _so_ long," she murmured once they finally broke the kiss, resting her head on his shoulder.

"How long?" he asked, curious.

"Since at least fifth year," she admitted. "Auror Tonks used to come to the Puff Common Room and give us a talk every year on safety and relationships and all, and she always used to pass around a vial of Amortentia so that we could know what it smelled like for us, in case someone tried to slip it into our drink or something. I took one sniff, and it was green plants and Butterbeer and you...I'd suspected I had a crush on you, but that told me it was a lot more than a crush."

"I am such an idiot. If I had known..."

"Would you have...I mean..."

"Are you kidding? I'd've leapt at the chance." He kissed her nose lightly. "Once you convinced me it wasn't some bizarre prank."

"I never would!" She was indignant.

"I know, I know...but the thought of you loving me was so far beyond anything I could conceive of back then..."

"You dated Ginny fourth year, after all, didn't you?"

He laughed out loud. "Only the Yule Ball, and only as friends, I assure you. I haven't got the firepower to date Ginny. Or the Quidditch skills. No, it's Harry for her, it's always been Harry, and not even Michael or Dean could distract her for long. They're good for each other." With Hannah in his arms, he noted, it was easy to be happy for his friends and their successful love lives, without a twinge of jealousy or loneliness. It was a good feeling.

"So, um. I'd invite you to my room tonight...but that's probably rushing things." She was blushing again.

"And I do have to get up early tomorrow, and if we did that, I don't know if either of us would get any sleep." He grinned at her, and leaned down again to kiss her lips, softly, tenderly this time.

"We have time."

"All the time in the world. I love you, Hannah."

"I love you, too."


	12. Chapter 12: Danger Threatens

Neville woke to a darkened room, shaking. _You'd think last night would have stopped the nightmares..._ but it had made them worse, because now it was Hannah whom Nagini was devouring while Neville stood, unable to break the Body-Bind curse, unable to reach the sword sparkling just a little bit out of reach. _It's not real, it's not real,_ _Nagini's dead and Hannah_ _'s in the next room,_ _peacefully sleeping,_ _she's all right, she_ _'s alive and beautiful and wonderful and she_ _loves me she loves me she loves me._ The thought warmed him to the core, and he closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the memory of her kiss.

They jolted open the next second, as he realized he wasn't alone. A silver lynx shone brightly against the dark window as it leapt inside, and in an instant, had its front paws on the bed, speaking urgently to him. "Come quickly, Longbottom, there's an emergency, and it directly concerns you. Dementors, a swarm of them - and they're surrounding St. Mungo's, among other places. We think there's something going on with the wards, and you know better than anyone that we've got to stop them before they get inside. Meet us at the Ministry, we'll arm ourselves and head out from there."

Neville's heart went ice-cold, and he practically levitated from the bed, throwing on his robes hastily, a quickly-muttered " _Scourgify"_ substituting for his usual shower. _Mum and Dad. I've got to protect Mum and Dad._ _Their memories would be candy to Dementors._ The thought froze him to the bone.

As he threw open the door and raced from the room, he heard Hannah's door open, and her sleepy voice asked, "Neville? What's up?"

"Dementors. St. Mungo's. No time, sorry, love, got to go."

She turned white, and nodded. "Oh, Merlin, by all means, go quickly!" And then she caught her breath, and added, "But come back to me, please, dear, come back whole."

He smiled at her, love overwhelming fear for a brief second. "Always."

And then he was running down the hall, taking the stairs two at a time, all his thoughts focused on getting to a place from which he could safely Apparate.

Hannah stood in her doorway, watching him go, panic clutching at her throat and chest. _He's going into danger, deadly danger, and I can't go with him, I can't fight for him. And he won't hold back, not when they're threatening his parents._ _If he doesn't come back,_ _if those dark monsters eat his soul_ _and last night is all I have of him forever...no. Hush. Stop that. He'll come back, he will. He promised. And maybe there's something I can do..._

She went into her room, and sat down on her bed, drawing her wand and remembering the feel of Neville's arms around her, the touch of his lips, the light in his eyes when she'd told him she loved him. She called to mind every memory of him she could hold on to - the shy sweet boy he'd been, who had shone so brilliantly when he was around his beloved plants, who talked to his toad when he thought no one was listening, who had hugged her hard when the news came about her mother, and let her go only after she'd cried her heart out on his shoulder, the fierce passionate rebel who'd inspired them all to fight even when everything seemed hopeless, who'd stepped between the Carrows and the half-bloods and younger children over and over again until he bore the scars of their torture inside and out, who'd shouted defiance at Voldemort when all seemed lost, while her heart sang for his courage and broke for what she feared was coming next, the man who'd stuck up for her and her friends in the bar, and who'd sung to the anti-grav tree as if no one was listening, who'd kissed her with such tender ferocity, who loved her, who would always come back to her. _Neville, my Neville, I love you so..._ the thought was strong enough that, when she centered herself again and looked around her, she could see the white light visibly beginning to gather around her. She raised her wand and spoke the incantation aloud, and not one but three little silver birds flew from the tip and perched on the headboard before her, as if waiting instructions.

And that was precisely what she had for them. "Go, protect him, protect his parents, don't let the Dementors touch any of them. Keep him safe, keep them all safe."

The birds cocked their small heads, listening, then took flight, one by one, swift and sure, through the window and out as if there had been nothing there, disappearing into the darkness. She didn't know how far away from her they could get before they faded, but she could hope.

 _Well, that's done. Hopefully, they can help. Hopefully, he'll come back_ _safe and well. Nothing to do now but wait, hope, and get on with my work, which isn't going to do itself no matter how anxious I am. Might as well get an early start, it's not like I'm going to sleep any more tonight._

Pragmatism helped, it always did, and she took refuge in practical tasks, washing up, throwing on her robes, and going downstairs to start prepping the meals for the day. _It's a good thing Annie's opening the Cauldron today while I have my N.E.W.T. classes- I don't know if I could put on my cheery customer service face today. And it's Herbology - Professor Sprout will understand being worried about Neville, she loves him too. Granted, everything's going to remind me of him there, but that's true anywhere, and maybe if I keep him in my mind, my Patronuses will be stronger and better able to protect him._

By the time she would normally have woken up, she had a sizable assortment of chopped vegetables, cubed meat, peeled potatoes, neatly-latticed fruit pies ready for baking, and the kitchen and public spaces had been cleaned and polished until she could see her face in every smooth surface. A few dozen roasted chickens were suspended in stasis, ready for carving, and she had tended to every plant in the place at least twice.

 _Nothing more to do here. Might as well_ _go to the greenhouses early_ _. I don't want to be alone right now._


	13. Chapter 13: Battle At St Mungo's

Neville arrived at the Ministry first, but Harry and Ron weren't far behind him. Kingsley Shacklebolt was already ready to go, briskly handing each of them a small rucksack. "There's chocolate in this pocket, if you need a quick boost. Emergency healing charms on the side for easy access. Basic Auror kit, including spare wand, in the main pocket. Now, we haven't got time to waste - you've all got the basic briefing, you know what's at stake, especially you, Longbottom. So let's be off."

Harry and Ron glanced at him uneasily, and Harry spoke up. "You're going too, sir? Isn't it a little odd for the Minister of Magic to go on a Dementor raid?"

"This isn't just a raid, Potter, not from the reports coming in. They're popping up all over London, and we don't know why. St. Mungo's is just one of the epicenters. And there are far too few of us left with Auror training and the ability to cast a corporeal Patronus - every one of us who can is going out there today. Yes, it's that bad."

Neville felt a chill down his spine. _That is bad. What's fueling them? Who's behind this? And does that mean Mum and Dad are being deliberately targeted?_

They Apparated without incident onto a quiet street overlooking what seemed to be an abandoned department store, but there was a chill in the air that Neville recognized in the pit of his stomach as Dementors. He peered carefully at the storefront, but could see nothing - and then a stray breeze drifted their way, and a dozen or so dark shapes floated around the corner, clearly testing the place's defenses. _Not on my watch._ At least summoning a happy memory wasn't difficult, after the night before, and the mongoose was soon racing at them, followed immediately behind by lynx, terrier and stag. Holding Hannah's face in his mind as a talisman, he followed in their wake, wand drawn, looking for more Dementors.

Neatly, the four Patronuses herded the Dementors away from the building, driving them off in a flurry of snapping teeth and shaking antlers. But there were more, coming from around the building, and Neville, to his horror, saw that a few of them had found a gap, somewhere, in the building's defenses, and were slipping inside. In a second, he was after them, vaulting through the window that separated the Muggle department store from the wizard hospital, and found himself on the first floor, surrounded by chaos.

Everywhere, healers were trying to cast Patronuses and move patients to safety at the same time. The receptionist and two nurses were grimly holding their ground against a flood of Dementors pouring through the wall, and the four Auror Patronuses quickly moved to help them defend, their human partners instinctively turning to face and defend in all directions.

And then he heard it, the scream that had haunted his childhood nightmares, over and over, ripping through him like lightning, and he was running before he knew it, not waiting for orders but taking the stairs two by two, desperate to reach his mother. Somewhere, he could hear Shacklebolt calling to the other two, "Potter, Weasley, stay put and herd them out as you can! I'm going to back up Longbottom!"

He reached the fourth floor, only a little out of breath, and some part of the back of his mind remembered to be grateful for the Auror physical training regime. But then all other thoughts were gone, as he saw his mother collapsed on the floor in the fetal position, arms over her head, and his father on his knees behind her, frantically trying to shake her awake, his own face a wreck of pain and terror. Dr. Kowalski stood over them, her wand raised and her gentle elderly face filled with a fury Neville had never thought possible for her, a silver mare at her side challenging the Dementors with raised hooves and snarling muzzle. His mongoose joined her, darting and nipping at the Dementors, keeping them clear of his parents, and the lynx took over on the other side, pushing them relentlessly back.

He ran over and knelt at his father's side, putting a reassuring hand on his back. Frank Longbottom looked at him with wild, uncomprehending eyes, and then turned back to his wife's trembling form. Neville, too, bent over his mother, murmuring soothing words.

She bolted upright when she heard him, and grabbed his arms, looking into his eyes. "Neville!" His name, the name he hadn't heard from her lips in nearly seventeen years, shook him to the core, but she broke the spell by continuing, her voice rough and hoarse from disuse. "My baby, my son, he's upstairs, you've got to protect him! I can't hold out much longer, can't keep them all busy for long, they'll find him, they'll torture him to make me break, they'll kill him! Please, get my baby out of here! I don't care what they do to me, just save Neville, please!"

His heart cracked in his chest and he put his arms around her, offering all the comfort he could. _Oh, Mum. All they did to you, all you suffered, and all you could think about was protecting me._ "It's all right, Mum, it's all right, his Gran's got him, he'll be fine, he's safe, you're safe too now, they're all dead, we'll protect you..."

Alice quieted a bit at the reassurance, but Frank was looking at Shacklebolt intently, as if trying to remember something. "I know you. I know you..."

Shacklebolt turned to him, returning his gaze, his eyes holding hope mixed with more pain than Neville had ever seen the dignified Minister show. "Yes, Frank. It's me, it's Kingsley. We shared a dorm for seven years. We were like brothers. Do you remember? Do you remember Hogwarts, Frank?"

His father shook his head, clearly frustrated. "I don't know I don't know I don't know. They're hurting me, Kingsley, they're hurting Alice, and I can't fight back. Where's my wand? I can't find my wand!"

 _I broke it...oh, Dad, I'm sorry,_ _Gran gave it to me and_ _I broke it..._ Neville looked down at the cherry-wood wand in his hand, guilt washing over him inexplicably. But the Dementors surged towards him slightly, and he determinedly turned his focus away from the sorrow and guilt, and set his mongoose on them again. _No. You won't get me through them. And you won't get them through me. I won't let you._

"It's all right, Mr. Longbottom. We've got you covered." Queenie Kowalski put her arm around his father gently, taking advantage of the brief bubble of safety, her mare continuing to trample Dementors in front of them. To Neville and Shacklebolt, she said, "I think the Dementors jogged loose a few of their memories, at least. But that ain't the best way for it..."

Neville shook his head, unnerved. But then there were more of them coming in, some through the walls behind them, and he was fighting again, fighting to preserve that little bubble of space for his parents.

He saw Dr. Kowalski's face turn to him in delight when he thought of Hannah, using the memory of their kiss to fuel his Patronus. "Oh, honey, finally!" she called out, her own Patronus visibly strengthening. "What perfect timing, and you're so _sweet_ together!"

He was aware that he was blushing, and that Shacklebolt was eyeing him with amused curiousity, but he kept his attention firmly on the Dementors. There were far too many of them, and more coming every second. _This isn't right. Something's calling them, breeding them, letting them in?_

Then he heard his mother scream again, and turned to find them coming through the floor, directly under them. He pulled his mother back, pushing her behind him, covering the floor with silver light as best he could while Shacklebolt grabbed his father, who was still searching for his long-lost wand. The cold reached for him, and he could feel despair creeping into the shadows of his heart, heavy and relentless, as if someone had soaked a quilt in ice water and was smothering him with it. A voice sounded in his mind, Colin Creevey's voice, bitter and angry, _I had a whole life to live and you took it from me. You led me to my death. I was a child. You should have protected me. You should have died instead of me._

 _No, no. That's not Colin. Colin chose to fight. We couldn't keep him away._ Desperately, he reached in his mind for the feel of Hannah in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder, _I've wanted to do that for_ so _long..._

But the voice was relentless, and didn't need his ears to reach him. And now it had morphed into a wordless cry, George's heartbroken wail over his twin's lifeless body. Fred's ghost rose in his mind, pointing accusingly at him. _Nothing ever separated us, nothing could, until you started this foolishness - you don't matter that much to anyone, why wasn't it you?_ _I wasn't expendable! You were!_

Hannah's voice countered from the bright warm place in his heart that was hers, fighting back the demons, and he could have sworn he saw three little silver birds, her birds, darting at the Dementor and battering it with silver wings. _You aren't expendable, not to me, not to anyone. And Neville, if you'd died, I'd've...come back to me,_ _please,_ _dear_ _, come back whole!_

 _Always, always, always._ He stood up, taking strength from her, and poured his heart's love into his wand, sending strength and vigor to the little mongoose, and felt the silver light surround him, keeping the darkness at bay.

The darkness seemed to be enclosing him and his mother, though, silver-lined or not, and he could see Shacklebolt, his father, and Dr. Kowalski only dimly through its veil. His mother was huddled behind him, and he turned to take her in his arms, cradling her against his shoulder as she must have done so often for him as a baby, feeling her shaking and cold against him. "It'll be all right, Mum, it will. Hold on, I'll get them away, I'll get us out of here. Just hold on, Mum."

"My baby my baby the fire the pain it hurts I can't hold out they'll kill my baby please..." Her words were frantic, desperate, half-mumbled under her breath, her strength failing but determined to get them out nonetheless.

"Shhh, Mum, it's OK, they're all gone, the baby's all right, the baby's with his Gran, she'll take care of him, and now we're here to get you out. Shhh, it's all right, it's all right, think of something happy, please, Mum?" He looked at her imploringly, nervously aware of the cold bitter tendrils of Dementor despair probing for weaknesses in his defenses - and hers. "Tell me about your baby. Tell me about your wedding. Tell me about the day you made full Auror. Tell me about the best thing that ever happened to you. Tell me stories about Hogwarts and your favorite subjects and your best friends. Please, Mum. Don't let them in, they're lying to you. Focus on me. Tell me good things. Tell me happy things."

She didn't respond directly, but she folded her arms before her as if cradling a baby, and began to sing softly, rocking gently back and forth. Neville's heart caught as he recognized the song, the lullaby he'd sung to the anti-gravity tree, that he used to calm the Venomous Tentacula when it was anxious. _So that's where I heard that first..._ _I'd had no idea._ "He's sleeping, see? Such a happy baby, he even smiles in his sleep," she murmured, tucking an imaginary blanket tighter around the child only she could see. "Frank can always make him laugh."

Tears prickled at the back of his eyes. _What would it have been like, to grow up with them as they were, not_ _distant_ _heroes to live up to but real parents who made me laugh and sang to me and loved me more than anything?_ But that line of thought was dangerous, and he could feel the Dementors using it to wedge open hs mind. Relentlessly, he fought the sorrow. _They do love me. Even in this state, they love me. That's something. Even as she is, my mother seeks out the prettiest things she has to give to me, to let me know I'm loved._ _And I had Gran and Auntie Enid and Uncle Algie who loved me, too._ _Hannah loves me, Hannah wants me to come back to her. Professor Sprout wants me to succeed her, and won't accept anyone else -_ _I've made Gran proud, I've even made McGonagall proud._ _I have worth. I have value. I have meaning and purpose, and I will not let you take that from me._

The Dementors retreated a bit, and he could see Shacklebolt and Dr. Kowalski more clearly now, attacking them from the other side. His father had found a quill, and was pointing it at them like a wand, clearly trying his best to fight alongside them, and Neville felt a surge of filial pride. _Whatever it takes, whatever they lost, nothing makes my parents quit fighting._ _And I'm like them._

But the glow was short-lived, as something dark and shadowy found a gap in their armor and plunged down towards his mother. A scream tore from her throat, and his little Patronuses turned as one to attack, but could not divert the dark shadow. Silently but frantically, he shouted for help, reaching for the one person he knew could hear him. _Dr. Kowalski, please! I need to reach her! They're going to suck out her soul, and I can't fight it from outside!_

 _Honey, that's too dangerous! They'll eat you too, and leave only a husk. You can't risk it!_

 _I know her worst memory. I've survived the Cruciatus a dozen times or more. I can face down her demons, because I know they're dead. And if I don't, she'll die and her soul will be gone and I'll never know her as she was, please, Dr. Kowalski, please!_ The last few words came out as a mental wail, and he felt her soften.

 _I never knew my momma either. All right, honey, but I'm keeping hold of you. This is your escape route -_ and here he saw in his mind a golden rope of light, wrapping around him - _don't_ _hesitate to use it if you need to. You'll do your momma no service by being lost yourself._

 _Yes, ma'am._ He closed his eyes, and felt Dr. Kowalski's mind reach for his, opening a door? a link? a tunnel? and then he was swirling down into a maelstrom of pain and chaos...


	14. Chapter 14: Worst Memories

_Fire and agony, his limbs - her limbs?- twisting in_ _unthinking, unconscious_ _reaction to the sensations knifing through her body, straining against the bonds that tied her to the chair. She fought for control, for a place to brace her mind against, but found only burning flames everywhere her mind turned. All she could do was shout the name of every_ _combat_ _spell that came to mind,_ _pushing all the power she had left into them,_ _hoping some of them would work, hoping to be enough trouble to keep them busy..._ if they find my boy I'm sunk, if one of them gets enough of a breather to get Neville and torture him...I can't bear that thought, I've GOT to keep them busy, please, little love, stay quiet, don't cry, don't fuss, be asleep, don't be hearing this.. _it was a good thing they'd practiced wandless magic, wordless magic over and over again in Auror training, because they were holding her wand tantalizingly out of reach, its sight part of the torture, part of the game they were playing with her._

 _She slashed with all her might at Bellatrix's face and had the satisfaction of seeing the witch pull back, clearly startled, a red line etching itself on her face._ Won't last long. Got to keep fighting. Got to, for Neville, for Frank, for the Order...fuel the anger, remember the dead, don't let them get away with it, for Marlene, for Dorcas, for Mary, for Lily and James and darling little Harry, for Frank for Frank for Frank oh Frank what did they do to you...no, mustn't let the grief get hold, keep fighting, keep angry, think of what they'll do to Neville if they get hold of him, can't let them get him, can't let them have my baby... _another Crucio took hold and her body writhed again, every nerve ending bathed in acid, nothing but pain pain fear pain..._

Into the fever dream of pain came the fluttering of bird wings, and Hannah's voice. _Come back to me. Come back whole. You are Neville, you are strong, you are whole, you are not here, not really. It's a dream. You can control it._. He was aware of himself now, ghostlike, drifting in his mother's mind, the golden rope still around his waist. With an effort, he pulled his strength together and stepped between his mother and her tormentors. "You're all dead. I saw you die." He pointed at Bellatrix, his wand appearing in his hand. "Molly Weasley made breadcrumbs out of you." She shivered, crumbling as she had that fateful day, fading into nothingness. _It worked!_ He swiveled to Rodolphus and Rabastan, who shrank back, unnerved. "Gran got you both with one spell. And kicked your corpses with her steel-toed boots, because she's Gran." They disappeared, falling to the ground and vanishing as if they had never been. He turned to Barty Crouch, Jr., who was...grinning? "And you. You were Kissed. The Dementors got you."

"Yes, and look what they did with me. Now I'm one of their own." He snapped his fingers and Bellatrix was back, laughing madly - another gesture, and Rodolphus and Rabastan returned, glares cold as ice. "And I've come back for vengeance. With friends."

Cold realization washed through him. _It's him._ _He's become_ _a Dementor. And there's no killing Dementors._ "I won't let you get Mum. Or Dad." His Patronus chattered defiance.

"Too late, foolish boy. Now I've got you, too. Cheap payback, for all those years in the horror of Azkaban, for the death of every happiness I had...but you'll know what it's like, all too soon, all three of you."

From behind him, he could feel his mother steeling herself for battle, though her mind was by no means clear about when she was or who she was fighting. He focused his mind on hers, trying to send her the images from his memory - _the_ _cold_ _satisfied smile_ _on Gran's face as she watched the Lestrange brothers crumple, her fire spell tearing through their hearts, the rage in Molly Weasley's eyes as she screamed_ _"YOU WILL NEVER TOUCH OUR CHILDREN AGAIN!", Bellatrix falling, falling, laughing in disbelief as she shattered on the floor..._ he felt his mother respond, tentatively, shock and fierce delight in her mind at the images. _They're not real, Mum._ _The real ones are dead._ _They're Dementor projections. Fight them with me, Mum._ _Think of happy things. Think of your best memory._ His Patronuses pushed back the Dementor-figures, keeping them at bay.

He felt images flicker through her mind, images of eyes -

 _Her mother's eyes, shining with pride, looking at the flowers that had been wilting a minute before, now bright and blooming in her chubby toddler fist - "Robert! Alice's first magic, look!"_

 _Her first sight of Hogwarts, rising through the fog, and the excited gasps of the other first-years surrounding her..._

 _The sharp grey eyes beaming at her - McGonagall's eyes, he realized with a start, but much younger than he'd ever known her- as the professor's long slender hands pinned the Prefect badge to her robes..._

 _Frank's eyes, lighting with love at the end of the room where he stood next to Kingsley, as she took careful, measured steps down the aisle, trying desperately not to trip over her dress..._

 _Moody's one real eye blinking, startled, as she deflected the practice curse he had shot at her while she worked at her desk, and the smug satisfaction in her "Constant vigilance!" as she used his moment of disoriented surprise to send him sprawling, his momentary irritation turning to delight in the student who had, even for a minute, surpassed the master..._

 _A_ _pair of bright green eyes, strangely familiar,_ _a younger woman_ _looking worried, "I never meant to make this hurt worse for you, Alice, I'm so sorry..." and her laughter bubbling in her chest as she answered, "It's all right, it's all right, Lily, you don't need to feel bad about it,_ _I'm pregnant too!"_

 _Frank's eyes again, or very like them, but this time beaming out of a smiling baby face, little hands reaching for her, grabbing for her hair...my baby, my lo_ _ve, my_ _little treasure, I_ _tried so long_ _to be able to have you, I love you so...please tell me he lived, tell me my Neville survived at least.._ _._

 _I'm here, Mum. I love you too. I lived, I'm here, I survived._

 _You're the boy who comes to see me. The one I save the charms for. You...you're...Neville?_ My _Neville?_

He felt the hope in her, bright and clear through her fog, the recognition he'd dreamed of for so long, fighting back the Dementors' cold, and he fed it with everything he had. _Yes, Mum, it's me. I'm Neville. I lived._

She looked at him - really looked at him, for the first time he could remember - and smiled, one shining brilliant glorious smile. _My son. You're my son._ Then, from her fingers, silver light leapt, swirled, became a creature as lithe and fast as his mongoose - _a pine marten, Shacklebolt said it was a pine marten,_ he thought, awestruck.

The Dementors fell back, and he could feel Crouch's anger and frustration, but he couldn't reach them, couldn't touch them, and the black veil was pushing back further, and now he could see his father, Shacklebolt, and Dr. Kowalski.

But the white fire streaming from his mother was draining her, consuming her, and he could see her weakening, fading as she poured everything she had into it, without even a wand to amplify.

Frantically, he poured strength into her, standing between her and the darkness, his mongoose flanking her marten, trying to encourage it. He could feel her power waver at the edges, like a tremor on his skin, and panic gripped him. A silver sparrowhawk, wings beating fiercely against the Dementors, joined the fight, and Neville turned his head to see his father, eyes intent on his wife, hands shaking, trembling, faltering...but deliberately, firmly pouring out light. He reached out for Frank's mind, too, hoping to give him strength, but all he felt was smooth walls, with one single, great crack from which a river of light was flowing.

 _Steady, honey._ Dr. Kowalski's gentle voice sounded in his mind, deliberately calm, but he could feel grief behind it, held in leash. _They've opened the floodgates, and if you try to stop them, you'll only get swept away._

 _But they'll die!_

 _The important thing now is to stop them - and us - from being Kissed. Death is inevitable. Losing their souls would be far, far worse. Turn your energy on the Dementors. Hold the darkness back, so that if their souls escape, they go free._

He knew she was right, could not deny the words and the knowledge behind them in her mind. _But I just got them back!_ the child in him wailed. Firmly, fiercely, he fought the grief back and turned his Patronus on the Dementors. Crouch lurked like a poisonous tendril at the corners of his mind, lured by the grief, probing for it, and he shielded himself just in time. Frustrated, the Dementor-Crouch lashed out, reaching for a memory he could use.

 _He was back in the DADA classroom, fourteen years old again. But he was seeing himself from outside this time, and he could feel gloating rise within him as he said, quietly but menacingly, "Your name's Longbottom, isn't it?"_

 _The child's face turned even paler, and his fingers gripped the desk in front of him, but he nodded._ So weak, so afraid, such a little fool - so unlike your mother. At least she fought back like a tiger when we Crucio'd her...you couldn't even stand to see it used on vermin. _He raised his wand, pointed it at the spider, keeping his eyes firmly on the Longbottom boy's face as he spoke the word, anticipation feeding the spell, the suffering of the little creature and the terror of the boy sweet as candy to his Azkaban-damaged mind..._

Neville had barely time to register the scene before he felt twin furies darting past him, blocking the memory, calling the Dementor's attention to themselves.

 _"I'm fine! It's all right! He can't hurt me anymore!"_ Neville tried frantically to catch his parents' attention, but could do nothing to stop the raging silver flames that blazed before him, seeking Dementor prey. Instead, he joined them, doggedly pouring his own light into the battle, chasing back the memory.

His mother's flame blazed brilliantly, too bright to see, for just a moment, then to his horror, he saw the pine marten flicker out, and the silver light disappeared entirely. His father's sparrowhawk followed a moment later, its mouth open in what might have been a scream.

Panic and fury gripped Neville, and he threw everything he had at Crouch's shadowy Dementor-body. From behind him, he heard Queenie shout, but could not understand what she said. The Dementor responded with a lash of darkness, throwing him back, farther and farther into his past, until it found the one haunting nightmare it was seeking, reached, and _pulled._

 _The little boy in the crib was upset. Everything in the house was wrong, and he didn't understand why. It had started a few weeks ago, when Daddy and Mummy started staying home all the time, which the boy loved, but they were tense and nervous, which worried him. Then the letter had come, the one that had made Mummy cry so hard. And then Daddy had left to go to work, as had been usual, but hadn't come home, hadn't been there to tuck him into bed and give him the usual goodnight kiss, and Mummy was even more sad and worried. Granny had come to comfort her, and had let the boy pet the birdie on her hat, which cheered him up a bit, but then she had to go away too. And now, he'd been put down for a nap and he didn't want to. He wanted Mummy._

 _Sitting up in his crib, he heard the swooshswoosh of visitors Apparating in, and was glad. Maybe it was Granny coming back. Maybe it was Daddy._

 _But the voices he heard coming up the stairs were cold and angry, alternately harsh and sickly-sweet, and he was very afraid. These were not good people. And then, worse happened. His mother screamed, and screamed again, a horrible sound that cut through his ears and his heart like a knife. The voices again, and then another scream, so loud and so sharp he felt he couldn't breathe until it stopped, but it didn't stop, not for an eternity. He wanted to scream, too, wanted to cry for help with all the breath in his lungs, but somehow he knew he needed to be silent, needed not to be found by the terrible people who were in his home hurting his Mummy. So he huddled under his blanket, clutching his stuffed toad for dear life, and closed his eyes, desperately wishing not to be found, not to be there._

 _When he opened them again, he was someplace dark, on a pile of blankets. A crack of light let him register that he must be in the closet across the room from his crib. It was only the second use of accidental magic in the child's life, but his child mind took it for granted – he had needed to be somewhere else, somewhere safer, and now he was. It happened to adults all the time. Why not him? And the screams were muffled here, by the blankets and the thick door, still the worst sound he'd ever heard in his young life but now more distant, easier to bear. And after another long eternity, they stopped._

 _But then, there were other noises, thumpings on the stairs and the awful people talking to each other._

 _"We've got to find the child, Rodolphus! He's a threat to our Lord. He must be disposed of."_

 _"The Potter baby was the dangerous one, Bella, and our Lord is dead, alas. If he weren't, the Aurors would have cracked and told us before they broke. The Cruciatus Curse is irresistible. And now, we should get out of here before their friends show up. That bitch was screaming loud enough to raise an army."_

 _"Our Lord WILL return, and I will not leave loose ends to disturb his peace when he does! We must kill both the babies. It's the only answer. Are you afraid of a mere child, Rodolphus?"_

 _"Not in the least. I'm afraid of a team of Aurors, and capture, and Azkaban with its dementors. And so would you be, Bella, if you had any sense!"_

 _"If you had any devotion to our cause, you'd have found and killed the child already!"_

 _The child in question huddled deeper in the blankets, shaking._ Must not be found must not be seen must not be or they'll hurt me like they hurt Mummy I want my Mummy...

 _And now they were in the room, looking at the empty crib. "They've taken him off somewhere, Bella. Come on, let's get out of here!"_

 _"The little brat's probably hiding. Look, the bed's been slept in, very recently. He's probably..." she scanned the room. "There!"_

 _The closet door was flung open with a flick of her wand, but the child was no longer there. Two stuffed toads sat on a pile of blankets, neatly folded, and neither Bellatrix nor Rodolphus Lestrange had any reason to suspect that there had been only one a moment ago._ Must not be found must not be seen..

Queenie saw the bodies fall, saw Alice and Frank collapse as the life drained from them, and felt Neville's anguish like a knife through her heart. She shouted at him to stop, to back away and work with the others, to follow the golden rope back to her, but he threw himself at the Dementor nonetheless. It lashed out at him, striking him with a single blow to the head - and he shivered, shimmered, and _changed_. She looked at the stuffed toad on the floor in horror. _Oh, Merlin, no, not that sweet boy, I won't let you..._ but with her inner eyes, she could see her golden rope still attached to the stuffed animal, still anchoring him to this world. _His soul's still there. There's hope yet._ With fierce determination, her disciplined mind centered itself on her own dearest memories - the sunlit bakery, Jakie's sweet smile, her first baby cuddled against her breast, her family gathered around the Sabbath table, faces shining in the golden candlelight. The mare brightened, and struck, Kingsley's lynx gaining force beside it.

Two more young men burst through the door, and one of them called to Kingsley, "We're all clear downstairs - we've come to help up here. Where's Neville?"

Kingsley pointed wordlessly at the toad, and the bodies, and the young man turned pale and swallowed hard. But his chin set in determination, and Queenie could hear him think, _You stood by me when things were darkest, Nev. I won't let you down now._ A stag burst from the end of his wand, tall and strong, shaking its antlers in defiance.

A little dog joined it, leaping from the end of the taller, ginger-haired man's wand, and Queenie could hear him, too. _Oh, bloody hell, that's Neville? We've got to get him out of here, our Ginny will kill me..._ He shuddered visibly, and the terrier charged at the Dementor, soundlessly barking defiance.


	15. Chapter 15: Ginny Gives Her Blessing

Between the genuine seventh-years, and those "eighth-years" coming back after a year wasted under the Carrows, NEWT classes were particularly large this year. Hannah, who had spent much of what should have been her sixth year at home dealing with her mother's murder, was somewhere in between the two groups. She was secretly grateful for the chaos, most days - it made her own unusual status more normal. Today, it was even more useful, allowing her to mask her worry in work. Though Herbology was never going to be easy, not with the constant reminders of Neville, down to the bright rich scent of greenery that perpetually clung to his robes and hair.

"That's the third time you/ve dropped that pot, Hannah," Ginny Weasley commented from the other side of the bench. "Something on your mind?"

"I'm just...worried." _Ginny's boyfriend and brother are out hunting dementors too, she'd understand._ "It's just...Neville got a call early this morning, about dementors at St. Mungo's..."

"Oh, yeah, Harry and Ron went too. I know, I'm worried myself." She reached over and squeezed Hannah's hand, but then paused and tilted her head. "Do you know why Neville...has he told you about St Mungo's and..."

"His parents? Yes, I knew before I met him. My dad and his parents were colleagues and old friends, before Dad died and his parents...We might have known each other growing up, except for what happened, but after that, Mum took me and ran as far away as she could from the wizarding world, and his Gran kept him away from anyone but family."

"Uh-huh. And you and he...is something going on with the pair of you? I've seen the way he looks at you, and...I mean, I don't mean to pry, but Nev's like a brother to me, and...you look really worried about him, and...well, I'm kind of hoping..." Ginny tilted her head inquiringly.

"Yeah, we are." Her face was bright red, she could feel it. "I've had a thing for him for ages now, and, well, he told me last night that he felt that way too...and we ended up kissing, and...um, well." She ran a hand through her hair.

"Oh, _wonderful_!" Ginny clapped her hands and smiled brilliantly at Hannah. "I knew the thing with Luna wouldn't last - I love Luna, but she's too airy and flighty for him to hold onto for long - and he really needs someone to love him, he's never gotten enough love, certainly not as much as he deserves. You understand, though, I'm telling you the same thing I told Hermione - you hurt my brother and I'll kill you, right?" The grin never wavered on the redhead's face.

Hannah laughed. "I'm not going to hurt him, I promise. I've loved him too long."

Professor Sprout came up behind Ginny and put a hand on her shoulder. "I realize that whatever you're talking about must be fascinating, but it's time to focus on your work now, young ladies."

"Yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am. It's just that our boyfriends and my brother are out hunting Dementors this morning, and we're a bit worried."

"Boyfriends, plural? That would be Mr. Potter, and...Mr. Longbottom?" Professor Sprout was eyeing Hannah, and was that a hopeful expression on the teacher's face?

"Yes." Hannah's face was heating up again.

The Professor beamed at her. "I'm glad to hear it, dear, you'll be very good for each other. And whatever those boys are up to, they can handle it, I'm certain."

"They're fighting Dementors at St. Mungo's, Professor."

Sprout's face paled slightly, but she only said calmly, "It will be all right, I'm sure. And in any case, Mr. Longbottom at least will be taking up a much safer profession soon."

"I know, he told me. Thank you, Professor."

"Well, I wouldn't trust anyone else with the position, you understand. He was the best possible choice."

"What for?" Ginny looked from Sprout to Hannah and back, confused.

"Young Longbottom has kindly agreed to return here to be my research and teaching assistant, and eventually my successor when I retire."

Ginny lit up. "That's absolutely perfect! He's always been brilliant at Herbology, he's going to be amazing!"

"Well, I think so, and Minerva thinks so, and he has accepted the position, but has not yet told Kingsley he is resigning. So please keep that to yourself for the moment."

"Of course, Professor." But Ginny was still grinning ear to ear, and as Professor Sprout moved on to examine other students' work, she whispered to Hannah, " _Professor_ Longbottom. Oh, that's perfect!"

Hannah grinned right back at her. "Isn't it?"

Their conspiratorial glee was interrupted by the door opening in the back of the greenhouses, and the entrance of an elderly lady wearing healer's robes. She was clearly distressed, a distress Hannah could almost feel at the back of her mind...no, there was definitely a feeling there, as if the older woman was probing at her thoughts. She saw her approach Professor Sprout, and speak a few words that turned the Professor's face chalky white. Then she turned to look directly at Hannah, and then at Ginny, and beckoned to both of them.


	16. Chapter 16: The Place Between

Neville sat up groggily, the light coming through the windows in a familiar, red-gold pattern. _The Gryffindor dormitories?_ he thought, perplexed. _How did I get here?_

"Neville, lad! How are you feeling?" The bouncy, cheerful voice was disturbingly familiar, too. _But it can't be..._

"Uncle Algie? But you've been dead for..."

"Yes, I know, I know. Ages and ages, really. This is the space between." His uncle looked younger, he noted, blond hair instead of grey, but it still flopped into his eyes in the same way, and he still had the same bright, slightly off-kilter smile.

"Between what?" _I see Uncle Algie hasn't lost the knack of saying bizarre things and expecting to be understood..._

"Life and death, boy, life and death! Do try to keep up. You're not supposed to be here yet, but apparently you're stuck for a bit. Transfiguration accident, Albus says."

"Transfiguration? Wait, did I really...the last thing I remember..." He rubbed his forehead, trying to think.

"You managed to transfigure yourself into an inanimate object. That old toad you used to chew on when you were small. Kept your soul safe from the Dementors, but unfortunately, you can't get back from that on your own, not now. Don't understand how you did it when you were small...but it's all right, lad, they'll get you to Minerva, she can fix it, she can fix anything. Marvelous old girl, our Minerva."

"That's the Headmistress of Hogwarts you're talking about, Uncle Algie..."

"I know. Isn't she wonderful? I carried such a torch for her as a young man...alas, well out of my league." Uncle Algie sighed theatrically.

Neville bit his lip, remembering more of what had just happened. "And...Mum and Dad?" He had to squeeze the question out from behind the lump in his throat.

"They're with us now, lad. You kept their souls safe. They'll be fine here, better than they were sitting in St. Mungo's not knowing who they were. Albus is having a bit of a chat with them right now, and they'll come and talk to you before you go, I promise. Though your mother may take a detour to murder Severus again, first. I've never seen our Alice look so furious..."

"He did apologize. But...they're dead, then. I didn't save them." His shoulders dropped.

"But you _did,_ lad. If those Dementors had gotten to them, they'd have had their souls eaten, and there wouldn't have been anything left. You got them to safety, for good. You did brilliantly, Neville. You're a born Auror."

"Well, um. I'm not going to be one for long." He took a deep breath. If anyone would understand, Uncle Algie would. "Professor Sprout wants to train me to be her replacement, and...Uncle Algie, it's my dream job. I'm going to teach Herbology at Hogwarts." Saying the words made them feel a little more real, but they still sent a thrill up his spine.

He was relieved, if not entirely surprised, when his uncle erupted in delight, and thumped him heartily on the back. "Herbology Professor at Hogwarts? My great-nephew? Well _done_ , lad! I would have given my right arm for a job like that, when I was alive...just think, the chance to go on and on about interestin' plants all day without Augusta giving you that impatient sigh of hers...and they _pay_ you for it..."

"And there's the rub. Gran's going to be _furious_. She's always wanted me to be an Auror, just like Dad, and when I tell her I'm giving that up before I've even properly gotten started..." Neville shuddered, anticipating.

"Well, now. Even Augusta can't tell you it's not an amazing chance. You grab it, lad, and know I'm here cheering for you every step of the way." His face turned unusually serious. "There are others here who want a word with you, but, well...before I go, I've always meant to apologize to you, you know, for dropping you out of the window when you were eight. Can't believe I was so careless. Could've killed you. Augusta gave me an earful after she put you to bed that night, let me tell you...and that bit about nearly drowning you in the lake, too. I didn't mean to..."

"It's all right. I knew you'd never really hurt me."

"Course I wouldn't. I love you, laddie, you know that, right?"

"I know. Love you too, Uncle Algie." Ghost or not, his uncle's hug felt quite solid, and Neville found that oddly reassuring. _If Uncle Algie is still here, still himself, then Mum and Dad are all right here too. I haven't lost them forever, I haven't failed them completely._ "And by the way, thanks again for the Mimbulus. It's still thriving. Professor Sprout showed me how to get cuttings, and there are three of them in the greenhouses now."

"Excellent, excellent. Now, as I said, there are a few more who want a word with you, so I'll take my leave - but I want you to know, we're keeping an eye on you, boy, all of us who went before, and you've done us all proud. _Professor_ Longbottom. Give my love to Augusta, and tell her to mind the back garden, I think I left a few gnome traps active." He thumped his nephew on the back one more time, and departed with his usual flourish.

 _Good old Uncle Algie. Not even death changes him._

But the warmth in his heart chilled to ice as he recognized the figures who entered next. _Fred. Colin. Lavender. Auror Tonks. Professor Lupin. Those who died fighting, while I lived._

He took a deep breath, intending to say how sorry he was, how much he wished he had been in the right place at the right time, had moved just a bit faster, had done just a little bit better, hadn't let them fall. But he hadn't managed to form the words yet before a huge bearhug squashed the breath right out of him. _Fred,_ he registered. Colin was right behind him, grinning, while Lavender hung back shyly, and the Lupins stood by beaming at the younger folks.

"Thanks, Nev," he heard, to his great astonishment, when Fred finally let him go. "From here, we can see everything - including what went on at Hogwarts last year, under the Carrows. And I...all of us older Weasleys, we owe you one, we owe you big for taking care of our Ginny. You were her brother when none of the rest could be there for her, you even took the Cruciatus for her more than once, and that means a lot to us."

"She had my back too, you know."

"'Course she did. She's our Ginny. But she needs a brother now and then, too. Thanks for being there."

"Always." He looked from Fred to Colin, then up at Lavender. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

"No." Colin shook his head vigorously. "Don't you _dare_ blame yourself for our choices. I snuck back because I wanted to fight, and I knew what might happen."

Lavender nodded. "Me too. No one really took me seriously until last year. Not even me. But you did, you treated me as someone who could stand up for herself and for something that mattered. I died for something that _mattered_ , and that's important. And you avenged me, too, you and Ron. That monster won't kill anyone ever again."

"Or bite any more small children." Professor Lupin was smiling at him, a smile full of pride and affection. "I owe you for that, too, Longbottom, you and young Weasley both. I always knew you had it in you."

"You were the one who taught me, sir. I don't know if I would ever have found the courage to do what I needed to do if you hadn't taught me to stand up to my fears that day."

"The fear you faced every Potions lesson for years on end without ever skipping class or playing sick? You always had it. I just helped you find a little more of it, that's all."

"I owe you, just the same."

"Then look out for our boy, please, when he gets to Hogwarts? I hear you're going to be teaching him..." Tonks smiled at him, but there was a slight sadness in her eyes.

"I'll do that, I promise."

"And be good to our Abbott, too. It's hard, being a Hufflepuff girl in love with one of you reckless Gryffindor boys, you know?" She tossed a mischievous glance at her husband, and reached up to kiss his cheek gently.

"I'd rather die than hurt her."

"I can't think of anything that would hurt her more." Lupin's face was stern. "Look, lad...we all left loved ones behind. There are wounds that won't be healed for decades yet. Teddy. George. Dennis. Parvati." He glanced around at the others. "We had a cause that demanded it. I won't say we were wrong, and nor were you - you risked your life as surely as any of us did, and it was only luck that saved you, luck and the Sword of Gryffindor. But...don't give yourself up for any lesser cause. There are people who love you and need you, young man, and there is no shame in valuing your life for their sake."

Fred nodded, his face uncharacteristically serious. "Yeah. What I did to George, and to Mum and Dad, and the rest of the family...don't you do that. Your Gran's lost enough, you're all she has left. And Ginny doesn't need to lose another brother."

"And Sprout - you're not just her favorite student, or her successor, you know. She loves you like the son she never had." Tonks piped up.

Colin nodded earnestly. "And the younger kids, the ones the Carrows hurt most- they'll need you, need a teacher who understands what they went through. You were their protector. You're their hero. They'll feel safe again at Hogwarts if you're there with them."

 _When did he start looking at me_ _the way he always looked at_ _Harry?_ Neville wondered.

"What we're trying to say, Longbottom, is that we're glad you survived, and we want you to keep doing it." Lupin put a fatherly hand on Neville's shoulder. "War takes some and spares others. It happens. None of this was your fault. Live your life and live it well, and none of us will begrudge you any bit of it. "

"It's not fair that you can't." He looked from face to face, seeking the anger he knew should be there, and finding none.

"No. It's not. Life isn't. It never has been. But that's not your doing, Longbottom, and you are not responsible for that. We can blame the fates, we can blame the Death Eaters, but we'll never blame you. You helped save my son's future."

"And my sister's life." Fred grinned at him. "Tell Harry he'd better treat her well, or...well, I'd threaten him, but if he ever did her wrong, there wouldn't be enough left of him to haunt after Ginny finished with him. And same goes for Hermione - she'd better be good to our Ron. And give the family my love - tell George especially that I love him, I miss him with all my heart, and I'll see him again, but he's not to rush matters, Mum's got her heart broken enough." The smile stayed on his face, but Neville could see him blink back tears.

Colin nodded. "Give my love to Dennis and my parents. And tell Dennis I'm proud of him."

Lavender was next. "Tell Parvati I miss her, but I'll see her again too. And tell Ron - I'm glad he's happy with Hermione. He's a good guy, he deserves to be happy."

"Tell Mum thanks for looking after Teddy, and tell him about us, if you can. And thank Professor Sprout for the flowers she planted on my grave. They're beautiful." Tonks's eyes, too, looked about to overflow.

"She chose them deliberately, you know, because they all had brilliant colors and none of them behave themselves."

Lupin beamed at his wife. "Perfect." Then, turning to Neville, "Tell Harry that Sirius and his parents send love, too, and so do I. " He patted Neville's shoulder.

"I will, sir."

"And Longbottom - I am very, very proud of you."

Neville nodded, his throat too tight to speak. One by one, the dead hugged him and left.


	17. Chapter 17: Reparifarge

Hannah could not remember seeing the Headmistress so visibly startled. "You mean to tell me, that this is young Longbottom? He Transfigured himself into an inanimate object, and you believe this is not the first time he's done it?"

The elderly Healer nodded. "He was struck by a Dementor while trying to save his parents. It must've kicked him back into his very worst memory, and I suspect we all know, here, what that was. I'm guessing he took the same form to hide from the memory that he did when it was reality. But he hasn't been in that form long - we brought him here as soon as we managed to drive off the last of the Dementors, and they seemed to lose focus as soon as his parents were...gone."

Glances were exchanged over the infirmary bed, where the stuffed toad in whose form Neville was apparently stuck had been placed. Madam Pomfrey shook her head sadly, and Professor Sprout looked close to tears. Hannah, Ginny, Harry and Ron stood together on one side of the bed, Hannah feeling mildly out of place next to the three Gryffindors' silent closeness. A white-faced Augusta Longbottom, summoned back rapidly from her holiday by Portkey only to find her son and daughter-in-law dead, and her grandson trapped in the form of one of his childhood toys, was being comforted by Kingsley Shacklebolt, and wasn't even trying to pretend that she didn't need comforting.

"You can bring him back, Minerva, can't you?" Her voice was almost pleading.

"Don't fuss, Augusta, of course I can." But there was a tenderness behind the sharp statement, and a reassurance that seemed to steady her friend. "I am only wondering, if this is how he hid from the Death Eaters in the first place, how he managed to Transfigure himself back into human form then, as a mere child. It is not supposed to be possible, from an inanimate form."

"Little kids think their toys are really alive, don't they?" Ron asked, hesitantly. "Maybe the toad he turned into then was real, in his head. And maybe it's easier if you don't know it's not supposed to be possible."

McGonagall eyed him thoughtfully. "Solid reasoning, Mr. Weasley. It's as good an explanation as any."

Through her fear, Hannah found a bit of amusement in the way the words made Ron's back a bit straighter. _A word or two of approval from McGonagall is like a hymn of praise from anyone else._

"In any case, it will be more helpful if you all focus your minds on the form he should have, and give me your backup. The spell, as those of you who paid attention in my class will no doubt remember," and here McGonagall raised her eyebrows sternly at the younger four, "is _Reparifarge._ "

Hannah nodded, and raised her wand, holding an image of Neville firmly in her mind.


	18. Chapter 18: My, How You've Grown

Two more figures entered, familiar but strange at the same time, and Neville felt unaccountably nervous. _My parents. In their right minds again. What are they going to think of me?_ That old fear that he would never be good enough, never strong enough or brave enough to be like them, was creeping up his spine again, and he felt its familiar cold grip on his heart.

They stood regarding each other for a minute or so, Neville mildly stunned by the feeling of being _seen_ by them, being recognized. Then, with a choking cry, his mother ran towards him and flung her arms around him, his father only a half-beat behind. He found himself nearly crushed in the middle of a three-way embrace, his mother's tears soaking into his sweater. Even his father, on whose face Neville had never seen any emotion beyond mild curiousity, was weeping openly, he realized. They held onto each other for a long moment, and then they stood back, looking at him as if neither of them could ever get enough of the sight.

"My son." Frank's voice was full of wonder. "You've grown, son."

Neville laughed, shakily. "It happens."

"We've missed so much. I'm sorry, Neville. If I'd been smarter, hadn't let them get the jump on me..." his father's voice trailed off.

"Not your fault, Dad. It was four on one."

"We should have been more careful and left the Fidelius charm up until all the Death Eaters were gone. Then we wouldn't have left you to grow up so alone..." Alice bit her lip, eyes asking forgiveness... _of me?_

"I wasn't alone. I had Gran, and Uncle Algie, and Aunt Enid..."

"And Dumbledore told us some of what they did to you, yes. I may have to have a word with my dear old eccentric uncle about dangling his great-nephew out of buildings..."

"It's all right, Dad. You know Uncle Algie. He doesn't think about what could happen, he just assumes everything will go all right because it always has, and it mostly does. Anyway, he already apologized. And he got me Trevor to make up for it."

"Trevor?" his mother asked.

"My old pet toad. Loved that little guy."

Frank laughed. "Algie _would_ get you a toad. He was always going on about how helpful they were in the gardens. Dumbledore said you inherited that Herbology gift of his..."

"Yeah. Um. About that. Gran always said you'd've wanted me to be an Auror like you, and I've been trying, but...I've got this offer, see, Professor Sprout wants to train me to be her successor, to teach Herbology at Hogwarts...would you think I was a coward if I accepted?" _Please approve of me, please..._

"A coward? I'd think you were a fool if you said no!" Frank burst out, clearly startled.

"Absolutely," Alice agreed. "Augusta told you we wanted you to be an Auror? Really?"

"You...you didn't?" The thought had never occurred to him.

Alice's hazel eyes widened. "Dear Merlin, Neville, we fought so that you wouldn't have to! We didn't succeed, I know - Dumbledore told us all about last year, and how brave and strong you were, and how you held everyone together and protected the younger kids and the half-bloods from the Carrows, and how you shouted defiance in the Dark Lord's face and drew the Sword of Gryffindor and all...and love, we're so very proud of you, no mother could be prouder, not even Lily, but we never meant for you to have to give your whole life up to the fight. We want you to be happy, more than anything."

"Dumbledore said you spent most of your childhood trying to be like us, for Mum's sake. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm grateful to Mum for looking after you, and she's done a grand job with you, obviously...but she ought not have put that burden on your shoulders. I mean, yes, you are like us, very much so. You've got your mother's smile, for one thing, and it will do me good to know that lives on - I've always loved that smile." He brushed a hand gently against his wife's cheek, and went on. "And you've got courage in spades, you've led an army, you don't have anything more to prove. But we didn't have you so that we could duplicate ourselves, son. And you should never spend your life trying to be someone else. You are your own person, you're an amazing young man in your own right, and we are every bit as proud of your Herbology skill as your courage. Professorships at Hogwarts are not handed out like candy."

"Not to mention your kindness, your loyalty, your good heart - Neville, dear, you spent every Christmas of your childhood in a hospital visiting parents who couldn't give you more than gum wrappers, couldn't even tell you how much we love you." Alice's voice broke on the last words, her eyes overflowing.

"Gran would have made me do that even if I hadn't wanted to, you know. And I didn't always want to, you know." His conscience pulled the admission from him.

"I know, and I don't blame you one little bit for that. But no matter how much it must have frustrated you or upset you to spend your holidays like that, to see your parents like that, you never once showed us anything but kindness and respect. You even kept my gum wrappers, didn't you? Dumbledore said McGonagall found a box of them under your bed once."

"Yeah. I keep one in my pocket all the time. For good luck, you know." He smiled at his mother, a treacherous tear finding its way down his own cheek.

"You're a good man, Neville. Not only a great hero, but a good man. We love you, and we're proud of you, and Mum should be too. Of you, all of you, not just the reflection of me she sees in you. " Frank's voice was hardly steadier than Neville's, but it was utterly sincere.

 _You don't know how much it means to me to hear that,_ he thought, but could not speak, could only wrap his arms around his parents once more, storing up the memory of the embrace, so that it would last a lifetime.

Alice looked up at him, her eyes twinkling despite - or perhaps because of - the tears that filled them. "Oh, and one more thing, darling. Dumbledore asked us to pass on a message from our old colleague Michael Abbott and his wife Anne. They would like you to know that they grudgingly approve of your snogging their daughter, since it made her so happy, but if you hurt her, they will haunt you."

"That's OK, Mum, if I hurt her, I'd haunt myself. She's amazing, and she deserves the world, and I have no idea why she's settling for me..." both his parents glared at him, and he rephrased, "OK, I'm very happy that she chose me, and I'll do everything I can to make her happy about it too. You'd like her, both of you, she's kind and warm and when she laughs, it's like the sun coming out..."

"We've met her, actually." Alice's lips twitched up. "But it was a long time ago, and both of you were babies. Her parents came over for dinner once, just before...well. She threw peas at you, and you retaliated with mashed banana. Both of you were thoroughly delighted. And messy."

"She was certainly adorable." Frank grinned at his son. "But I suspect she's grown some, too."

"Just a bit. Here. Let's see if this works here..." He pulled his wand from his robe pocket - _I see it came with me, that's interesting_ \- and waved it, murmuring, "Ostende Imago." A mist formed, and Hannah's face emerged from it, smiling at him. He knew his own expression, looking at her, was thoroughly, goofily, lovestruck, and he felt no shame whatsoever about it. _Merlin, she's beautiful..._

"Pretty enough, no doubt - but it's the look on your face when you look at her that matters." Frank patted him on the shoulder.

"And the way she looks at you, if that image is any guide." Alice's grin was bright and mischievous. "Clearly, she is intelligent enough to appreciate how lucky she is."

"Mum..." Neville could feel himself blushing.

His mother was firm. "You deserve to be loved. I wish, so much, that we'd been around to give you the love you needed as a child - but at least I'm glad to know that you aren't going to be alone."

"No, Mum. I'm not alone any more. And it isn't just Hannah - I've got friends now, lots of them, Professor Sprout's the best mentor anyone could ask for, and both Gran and McGonagall have told me they're proud of me. I'll be fine, I promise."

"I'm glad. But you should know - whatever else happens, whatever you do with your life, we will always love you, and we will always be proud of you." Alice stood on her tiptoes to kiss his forehead in what felt like a benediction, and Frank nodded in agreement.

"And we will see you again. Until then...be well, Neville. We'll be looking out for you."

"Thanks, Dad. Thanks, Mum. I love you both."

They each hugged him once more, tightly. He had expected them to leave, the way the others had, but instead, he felt himself...not pulled, but released, like an elastic band stretched too tightly snapping back into shape.

His eyes opened, though he had not realized they were closed. The first sight he saw was one he had not seen in sixteen years, since he had been plucked from that dark closet by strong, safe arms so long ago - his grandmother, tears pouring down her face, her ramrod-straight form collapsing in relief and thankfulness.


End file.
